


Light & Shadow

by vintage_grace



Series: The REM Trials [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Far From Home, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintage_grace/pseuds/vintage_grace
Relationships: Betty Brant/Ned Leeds, Peter Parker/Original Female Character
Series: The REM Trials [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1521020
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Welcome!

Hello, dear reader.

If you're a fan of Peter Parker (aka Spiderman) then I welcome you to this story. If you are not, I extend my welcome all the same. This story is a continuation of The REM Trials, which I recommend reading before starting this one. I hope all of you will be able to read both and enjoy it.

I look forward to sharing this with you and all getting to hear your thoughts and reactions. The prologue will be posted very soon, but until then, feel free to browse my other stories, or ask me more about this story!

And as always, stay wonderful. Xx

–Sai


	2. Prologue

_A/N: If you're reading this, I would like to remind you this is book 2 of The REM Trials series. So, please, go check that out if you haven't. (Especially since a lot of stuff in here will revert back to the first book, so things will make more sense in order.)_

_Also, thank you for reading this story! It was so much fun writing the first book, and I'm so inexplicably ecstatic to continue Lia's story with this book. So, please, read on and enjoy!  
_

_Stay awesome, darlings. Xx_

...

I wait on the rooftop of Peter's apartment complex until I'm sure he's asleep. My fingers fidget with the gloves from my suit as the doubt starts to creep in. Should I really be doing this? Is it worth hurting everyone I love? Can I truly leave him like this after everything?

The answer in my mind is a resounding "yes." I have to go. If I don't, it puts them all in so much danger from the people hiding behind the REM Trials. They've proved they'll stop at nothing to get to me. It would stupid and selfish of me to stay.

It's not what Dad or Nat would have done.

I slip on my gloves and crawl down the side of the building until I reach his window. The light to his room is on like it always is these days.

I remember the night after we made it back, Peter and I were curled up in the same bed, too scared to sleep or let the other go again. We had the light on, and he told me how the dark reminded him of when we died and the world went black and cold. So we shared m tiny bed and relished in the comfort of each other's presence since we couldn't go to sleep.

If I'm being honest with myself, I've barely slept the nights without Peter.

Tears build in my eyes as I manipulate the shadows to quietly undo the latch before creeping in. His room is changed from how I remember from before this whole mess, but that's mostly because he had to move after the Blip and some things were lost during that time.

He lies sprawled across the bed, only half way covered by the blanket, with a tense look on his face. I lower my hood and take off my gloves and bottom half of my mask before sitting on the edge of his bed. My fingers brush some hair out of his face and smooth the wrinkles from his brow.

I try to memorize every little detail of him. Everything from the curve in his nose from when he broke it, the freckles on his face, how his hair always has those adorable curls, and all the other things I fell in love with. They're the things I want to remember while I'm gone.

He lets out a sigh in his sleep as my thumb brushes his cheek. It brings a small smile to my face as I try to hold back the tears. I press a gentle kiss to his forehead, which makes him stir and eyes groggily blink open. "Lia?" He asks in that sleepy voice that makes me melt from head to toe.

"Yeah, it's me." I whisper and keep running a hand through his hair. "I just needed to see you."

A small smile tugs at his lips as he takes my hand. "I missed you." The words aren't like a dagger to my heart. It's been a week since I 'left,' but tonight is when I truly disappear.

"I missed you too." I whisper back to him. "But I can't stay. I needed you to know though."

"Know what?"

"That no matter what they say, you know the truth—about who I am. People will say lies about me, but you can't believe them, Pete." I sigh and hold back the tears as I squeeze his hand, "Plus, there was no way I could let you forget that I meant every word I said on Titan and at the cabin. I love you so much, Peter Parker, and that's never going to change."

His confused expression softens as he sits up and cups my cheek in his hand. "I know, and I love you too, Lia Stark. Always have and always will."

I can't form any words, so instead, I lean forward and press a delicate kiss to his lips with all the emotion I have. It physically hurts when I have to pull away. Peter has a groggy smile on his face, and it's clear he's trying not to fall asleep as my thumb brushes his cheek. "Go back to sleep, darling. We'll see each other again before you know it."

"Promise?" He whispers as his eyes start to droop.

"I promise." I tell him and pray he can't hear the tears thickening my voice. "I'll always come back to you, love."

He's fast asleep within second, but I stay for a few minutes. This hurts so much worse than I thought it would, but it's partly why I saved this goodbye for last. Even though it's not truly a goodbye, it feels like I'm losing a part of myself.

"I've made the coding enhancement to his suit's AI as instructed." ARTI calls and jars me from my thoughts. "Happy also sent a message to inform you that the jet is waiting for you."

"Okay," I whisper and press one last kiss to Peter's cheek before climbing out and locking the window before disappearing into the night and from my old life.


	3. Chapter 1

_Warnings: mentions of blood, violence_

It pours down like rain. My clothes are sticky, and all I can smell is the metallic iron tang. With each new wave, I have an eerie knowledge of who it came from. It's my family, just like always. This time it started with Dad's, quickly followed by Nat, Gran, Mum, Morgan.

I can't breathe. My fingers claw at my chest as I wake up from the nightmare that's haunted me these past few months. "ARTI, security check."

"It's quiet tonight." He replies, "The tracker on Holt is still active. He's currently out for lunch at Xaver's like always."

"You gotta admit, this one is punctual. Makes things a little easier." I mumble and rub my temples. Every inch of my body aches, which I should have known would happen when I went on the run, but it's what I had to do. At least, that's what I tell myself when I get out of bed each morning. "Do me a favor? Secure the room and keep an eye on him. I've gotta clean up."

"Sure thing." ARTI chimes, and I can hear the rudimentary locks I connected to his system close over the doors and windows.

I grab a relatively fresh set of clothes from my bag and head into the washroom—if that's even what you can call it. The shower only runs cold, the sink pretends it's a shower most days, and the toilet is hopeless. Surprisingly, this isn't the worst place I've crashed in.

My heart drops when I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror shard. I'm starting to wonder if I'm nothing more than just a shadow of myself—if maybe I died the day I left—if I left the best parts of me back home.

The cold water brings goosebumps across my skin, but I continue on. I can't stop scrubbing at my skin. A part of me hopes that if I keep going until my skin is raw, I'll be able to wash away these past seven months.

Instead, I smell eucalyptus.

It always manages to remind me of Dad. He used it for years after the one time they ran out of his soap at the store, and he used Pepper's, which was a blend designed for stress relief—something anyone that spent a lot of time around Dad in the old days needed. Once he used it, he never went back. The smell is now ingrained in my mind to only be associated with Dad. Sometimes, just for a second, it makes me feel happy—like he's still around looking out for me through all this. I could use one of those seconds right now.

There's still streaks of blood over the shower drain. I spent most of the day last week trying to wash it away, but it's still there.

I keep pouring the soap into my hands and scrubbing at my skin. The longer it doesn't work, the more the frustration clouds my mind until my skin is red. "Why won't you work? Please, I—I just need him again."

My chest tightens. The walls seem to close in on me. I rush out and slide across the floor along with the mat. Everything is screaming and pounding, and I can't stop crying. So, I just sit on the floor, a completely broken mess.

Each day, my body get heavier. It's harder and harder to move—to function. Anxiety gets a deeper grip on me. I'm starting to feel like all I'm made up of is it, pain, grief, and constantly shifting vortex of emotions, and it hurts. All I can do is take one trembling breath at a time until my clears little by little until I can function again.

Once it subsides, I shakily clean myself up and head out into the cold, dim room I've been living in since I got here three weeks ago. "I have an update on Peter. Seems like you could use a little cheering up." ARTI calls and displays a hologram from my watch.

"Not now, ARTI." I call with a raw throat and aching body as I collapse on the crummy mattress. "I just—I just wanna go back to sleep until Holt leaves the lab."

The video plays anyway, which is ARTI's way of ignoring me, "He recently was the officiant that gave a donation to the Forest Hills Public Hall on behalf of the Stark Relief Foundation."

I barely find the energy to look up and see Peter on screen, identity hidden behind his suit. "Turn it off. I don't need this right now."

"Yes, you do." He counters, "I was programmed with behavioral analysis, which is how I know you can't sustain yourself like this."

"Watch me." I counter and put a pillow over my head. "Please, all I need is sleep."

"He's going to be in Venice." I manage to hear through the thin pillow.

"What did you just say?" I question and watch the video flickering on screen of Ned obsessing about the senior trip to Europe. It makes my chest ache and regret taking the chance to graduate early. The option was always there, but once we came back it felt like too much to face, so I took the chance long before the papers were printing lies about me.

Still, I miss everyone.

I reach for the letter on instinct. The paper crinkles as I unfold it for the millionth time. It still feels like some prank, but I know it's not. My grandfather wrote me this note. Why? I have no idea, but I know there's a reason. Reading it helps calm me, but this time isn't for comfort.

The last portion of the letter has always bugged me. Pieces of it have fallen into place. I've done my best to follow my heart like he advised, but I couldn't figure out who my grandfather referred to with 'above all else, keep him close.' A part of me thought he meant Dad. We were always close, and I trusted him with everything.

Except, now he's gone, and I'm lost all over again.

I'm starting think maybe my grandfather meant someone else. Maybe he meant Peter. After all, we kept each other sane after Dad passed. We helped each other through everything, and maybe we're supposed to be together for whatever comes next.

"ARTI, get a train ticket to Venice."

"Already did. We leave in two days."

"Good. Check the standard prep and start scrubbing. We can't leave any trace behind." I fold the letter back up and tuck it away. "Pull up everything we've got on Dr. Bernstein Holt so far and keep digging. Tonight, I'm making my move."

ARTI complies and opens the information we've gotten so far. I crack open the cheap ancient laptop I have for this kind of stuff. He taps me into the feed, which I dive headfirst into.

Funny thing is, when you stop worrying about what lines can and can't be crossed, it's shocking what you're able to find—the dirt you can dig up on someone. Even the cleanest people have something they've swept under the rug. Sometimes, you've just gotta know how and where to look.

A smile tugs at my lips as I finally root out the system of weeds in the seemingly perfect garden of Dr. Bernstein Holt's life. In the past few months, I found that all it takes is the smallest things to unravel even the strongest of people.

Once I have what feels like enough, I slip my suit on underneath some jeans and a hoodie. No one pays much attention to me—or anyone really, which makes my life easier as I approach the small lab that OSCORPS owns and employs Dr. Holt through a series of shell companies. It's how they air out their dirty laundry.

Only the smallest traces make it through to their own files. That's how they keeps their hands clean from what they're really doing. It's only if you look close enough that you'll find the dirt under their nails. All I want is to destroy them, to expose to everyone that their hands are anything but clean. They're drenched, dripping in the blood they've spilled in their obsession for power.

To do that, I've got to clear my name—after all, international terrorist doesn't scream 'reliable.' Or, maybe, I just need to ruin their lives like they did mine. No matter what, I'm going to do whatever it takes.

Holt exits the lab, locking up before he heads down the street. I continue walking towards him, and right when we intersect, I make a point to 'accidentally' bump into him. It's all that's needed to transfer the chemicals.

I keep a mental clock going in my head and wait for the trademark scuffing of shoes against the concrete. It's all routine from there. "Are you okay, sir?" I question in semi-flawless German as I rush back to Holt. He can't get any words out, which I hear is one of the side effects, right alongside dizziness, nausea, clouded vision, trouble focusing, and—my personal favorite—lowered self-control.

It's not hard to move the drugged scientist into what I'm sure the camera's will be fooled into thinking is a warm, cozy cafe. What they _won't_ see is us slipping right out the side door and out to the an empty warehouse. It's almost shocking how easy it all is—to drug and kidnap a fully grown man.

Then again, I've had months of practice.

It helps, because now, I know what knots are impossible to slip out of, what dosage to administer, and how long it typically takes for them to wake up. The quiet isn't as distressing as it used to be, but it still screeches in my head.

Everything is clouded. It's a struggle to focus on anything. For some reason, all I can think about is what I left behind. They're always on my mind, have been from the second I got on the jet and left New York behind. No matter how much I try to check in on them, it never dulls the knife buried to the hilt in my chest.

I suppose it's not something you can just get over. One day, things were complicated, but okay. Then overnight, the papers were screaming that Phantom was a murderer and international criminal. All of them are supported by false information, but the only way to disprove the claims would be revealing my identity, which is precisely what they wanted.

If I went public with the truth that I'm Phantom—or worse yet, someone makes the connection and discovers I'm a Stark—the people behind the trials would have everything they need to put me in their hands for good. I'd spend the rest of what would likely be a short life, tied down to a table and experimented on until they found whatever they're looking for or my body gave out. A life on the run is better than that—especially if it means I protect Morgan.

I don't even want to imagine what would happen to her if they discovered the relation. The simple detail of shared DNA puts her in as much danger as I am. It's my job to make sure that doesn't ever happen. With Dad gone, I'm the one who is in charge of protecting her.

Holt gasps from his place in the chair, and I snap into action. A facade builds around him, which in his eyes looks startlingly real. I remain still from my place against the table, careful to not make any noise. It's one thing I learned the hard way when I first started testing the waters of the abilities I never knew I had. I can manipulate shadow and now light, but sound? That's something outside my range.

"What? What's going on?" He mumbles as he pulls against the restraints.

"Nice to see you're awake, Dr. Holt. Or can I call you Bernstein?" The tall, muscular man that I create for these illusions. ARTI was more than happy to lend his voice for the illusion, which feels strange, but it works with the speaker set up in my mask. It helps to seal the validity of the illusion. Plus, it means I only have to memorize a few phrases of whatever language is spoken where we stop. After that, I walk around where ARTI goes and read the subtitles while guiding the conversation.

"Why am I here?" Holt questions.

"You know why, Dr. Holt." ARTI replies, "You have information that I have been hired to obtain."

"I don't know what you could possibly want. I work for a small company. I run genetic testing and study mutations."

ARTI lets out a laugh as I circles the restrained Doctor and lean against the table. "No, what you do is much, much bigger than that, which is why we need all the research and data you've collected, and before you refuse, you should know, my employer told me to use any means necessary. It'd be such a shame if something were to happen to your wife, Karlotta, or your mistress, Carina."

Holt's eyes go wide when at the mention of his little secret, and as usual, right before our eyes, the man unravels like a cheap jumper. There are tears shed and pleads for forgiveness called out as he spills out every little secret he's been hiding away. I take note of it all. You never know what little detail can unlock everything.

By the time he's finished, the poor man has snot still pouring out of his nose, head hanging low in shame, and nothing left to hide. I move to where the illusion of ARTI is and cut the ropes. "Wait an hour, check into a hotel, and disappear. If you go home or tell anyone, I'll make sure mine is the last face you see."

I walk out of the empty warehouse, trying to piece together the snippets of information we've gathered, but it's difficult with my head all fuzzy after using up that much energy. "I obtained a physical copy of his research from his system. Would you like me to add it to the file?"

"You mean the mountain of useless crap I've compiled? Sure, just double check you scrubbed any traces of yourself. We're in too deep to get caught now."

"Only if you promise to actually get some sleep."

"I will when the nightmares end." I retort, but ARTI remains silent. "Fine, I promise to try, Mum."

"Any comparison to your mother is an honor. Pepper Potts is quite an accomplished woman."

"Oh, quit drooling." I tease as I enter the crappy apartment closing and locking the door behind me. "Secure the room and keep prepping for the transition to Venice."

It's only then that it really hits me. After months of longing and wishing for even a sliver of home and my old life. Now, it's really happening.

I'm going to see Peter again.


	4. Chapter 2

I take one last check in the mirror, making sure the vibrant red extensions and fake nose ring are in place and convincing. It's a simple disguise, but it's also ridiculously effective. One thing I've learned is the more attention you draw to yourself, the less people look.

All it takes is a bold look, and suddenly, you're pretty much faceless. People will pick out and recall the broad strokes and forget the details. "We good to go?" I ask ARTI as he does one last scan of the room.

"No traces of DNA or fingerprints left behind. Everything is exactly as it was when we arrived." He replies, showing me the overlay over what's in front of us.

"Perfect. Onward and upward, or plummeting downward, in my case." I mumble to myself and hold on to the straps of my bag. The complex is quiet as I slip out like—well, like a Phantom. No one ever saw me come in or out, and now no one will ever know I was here at all.

I quickly make my way to the train station, slipping through security with ease despite the small armory I always have with me. Another perk of having lived with some of the world's top spies and being able to manipulate what people see. All it takes is a box with fake 'important documents' and a false bottom. Once you add in a little manipulation to what someone sees, they forget to ask questions and assume their senses are right.

Mine seem to be permanently stuck on high alert. I keep my sunglasses on, because the light and to help hide where I'm looking. It's a trick that I inadvertently learned from Dad—or maybe he learned it from me. I like to think the latter, because it means I was able to pass something on to him.

I keep watching anyone around me, fists constantly at the ready, and shadows primed for a fight. ARTI scans the faces and bags of the other passengers as I move through the car. Each one is run through the international databases and stored for later. It helps ease my mind when we're fighting and be chased by a faceless and nameless group.

My head is pounding from the light pouring in through the open window, but the most I can do is adjust my glasses. ARTI takes note and dims the lenses. "No repeat encounters and no one here as any sort of record."

I open up my tablet and insert a command to ARTI, "Good. Keep an eye out for strange activity." He pulls up the feed of every angle of the train and a video game? I stare at it in confusion. I never downloaded a video game on here. "What the—?"

"Play it." ARTI tells me, "It will help pass the time and distract you. I'll keep watch and alert you the instant anything happens."

It's hard to argue. He's right, even if he is annoying about it. This is going to be a four and a half hour train drive, which will is already starting to feel like an eternity. So, as much as I don't want to let my guard down, I give in and start playing the silly game.

The hours still drag by, but they don't weigh as heavily as they usually do. I have to admit, despite the idea of being stuck in metal car with strangers that could also be one of the many people after me or that could recognize me, this wasn't a horrible trip.

I grab my bag, adjusting the strap over my shoulder as I head out of the station. "Directing you to nearest motel that fits parameters." ARTI calls as he displays a bright blue line on the ground leading me through the city. "You'll have to take the ferry to get to the main island."

Luckily, the ferry station is across from the train platforms, and I hop on the next ferry to the main island. I can't help but admire the city as the ferry drives through the larger canals. It makes my chest ache a little more than usual. Being here brings back memories of my summer's with Dad—in the time between moving to New York and Thanos. We used to play darts with a map of Europe and spend the whole summer traveling to all the places we 'picked.'

It feels strange to be back without him, and even more so knowing that within a day, Peter and the others will be here as well. I hop off the ferry at the first drop off and make the walk to the hotel, which is on the other side of the city from where Dad and I stayed before, but I can't exactly stay in a five star hotel and remain under the radar.

"Wow. You sure know how to pick them, huh?" I ask ARTI as the hotel comes into view. The exterior is dirty and weather worn. It looks like they tried to repair it a few years ago and gave up, and now, the poor place is slowly sinking into the sea. Still, I've definitely stayed in worse places. I whisper to myself as I give up and head inside. "Please, don't let this place have rats too.”

The lobby is dingy, dusty, and drab. The floor beyond the initial patch of tile work is torn up with water flooding beneath it, which isn't too surprising. I appreciate that they at least put down a plank for guests to get across without soaking their feet. I nod at the usual oddities, which in this case is a glass cabinet full of antiques, and the classic bar full of half empty bottles. There's an odd mix of folding and what I assume must have been chairs for the tables they original had, and an orange and white cat lounging top them. I silently hope that means there won't be any rodents.

The elderly man behind the desk smiles at me as I enter, and I barely manage to return to gesture. "Hello. How can I help you?" I'm once again grateful for ARTI's real time translation program, which helps me understand the man's thickly accented Italian.

"I need a room—one with a balcony if you have it."

"How long will you be staying?"

"I'm not sure yet." A moment's hesitation flickers across his face, which isn't surprising. With these run-down hotels, they're usually used to being skipped out on. "I can pay two nights up front, if that helps."

"It does." He replies and holds out his hand for the money. Once I hand it over, he gives me the key. "Room twelve. Up the stairs, end of the hall."

"Grazie." I call and head towards the stairs, only pausing for a moment to pet the cat, which purrs in contentment at the gesture. It makes me crack a smile before I come back to myself and head up the stairs, which creaks under my feet.

I unlock the door and swing it open to another dingy hotel room. It's definitely better than some of the places I've stayed. There's a mattress and a dirty couch, which counts for something, I guess. It's at least has the balcony like I wanted.

"How much longer until they arrive?" I ask ARTI as I grab the sensors and place them on the balcony's edges and the outer side of the main door's frame. "And let's run a test on the sensors. I need to know that they're in the right place."

"They're scheduled to arrive in approximately twenty-three hours, and the sensors are running at peak efficiency." ARTI replies, and I nod. "I suggest you try to get some rest. You haven't been sleeping like you should."

I let out a heavy sigh and rub my temple. "Yeah, well it's kind of hard to sleep when you're being hunted—and, ya know, anxiously waiting for even a glimpse of your boyfriend—if we're technically still together that is." My heart turns to lead in my chest as I sit down on the mattress. "Why didn't I think this through before coming? He could have moved on by now and not even want to see me. He could be dating someone else by now."

"I'm fairly certain he hasn't. There has been no signs of a relationship from my observations."

"Yeah, but even you don't see everything." I pause and look at the bright city outside. "I should have just kept going. ARTI, set up a route to our next stop."

"No." He replies and clears my lenses in protest. "You came out here for a reason, and you need to see it through."

"Don't argue with me right now, or I can and will reboot you." ARTI stays quiet for a moment, and I think he's about to give in when there's a bunch of noise echoing from downstairs. My brain immediately switches into fight mode. "Get me a view of the hallway."

The feed flickers on my lenses, and I nearly vomit at the sight of the familiar faces approaching various doors. "ARTI? I thought you told me they didn't get here until tomorrow."

"I may have purposefully misspoken." He replies. "I knew you were likely to reconsider."

"So you lied?"

"Yes, but only to help you."

"Did you know they were going to stay here? And more importantly, do you know where they're going?"

"Of course I do, they're scheduled to take a tour of the Da Vinci Museum at three o'clock. If you leave in a few minutes, you'll be able to make it past them undetected."

"You had this planned the whole time?"

"I've been you companion for over five years. I know you well enough to plan for nearly anything." He replies, and if he were human, I swear he'd be smiling. "I should also advise you that Peter's room just across the hall."

I try to ignore the way my heart screams at the mere mention of his name. "Keep an eye on the hallway. I'm going to change into something that doesn't smell like Munich and a four hour train ride."

My body is sluggish as I sort through my bag to grab a new set of clothes. A part of me still can't believe this is real. I've been on my own, running from place to place, for six months, and now one of the people I love most in the world is just across the hall in the same crummy Venetian hotel as I am without even knowing it.

I slip on a fresh change of clothes and throw my bag back on my shoulder before slipping out into the now empty hallway. The rest of my friends and classmates are all in their rooms, and I can hear their chattering conversation through the thin doors. It makes me smile at how happy they all sound.

On my way out, I pass an arguing Mr. Harrington and Mr. Dell. It seems they can't agree on who has to take what shift of chaperoning. The man in the lobby offers me a smile and a wave as I pass him. "Addio, signore." I call over my shoulder, feigning a cheerful mood that I don't even remotely feel.

The sun shimmers on the muddled green waters in the canal. I let myself enjoy it as I wander around the streets of Venice and take the long way to the museum. All the while, I can't stop thinking of the time Dad and I visited. It was part of our summer adventures. I guess it was his way of making up for lost time. He always made sure to make every second count, and he did.

"They're leaving the hotel. I've highlighted the route that'll get you there before them." ARTI says as he displays another bold blue line on the ground. After a moment of silence, he speaks again, "Are you ready to see him again?"

"Honestly, I don't know." I reply with my phone pressed to my ear so I don't look absolutely insane. "I'm still a little scared."

"You shouldn't be. I still have all the surveillance footage of how he would look at you—even when you weren't looking. The boy has been madly in love with you since two and a half months after you met."

"Two and a half months?"

"Yes, I made note of it since you fell in love with him after the first six weeks of knowing him." ARTI replies and shows me the compilation of data he has in his memory banks. "Heads up, their entering the courtyard. Seven o'clock."

I do my best to be casual as I 'hang up' my phone and keep walking through the crowd. It takes me a few breaths to gather my courage, but once I have it, I glance over to where ARTI said to see them. The whole group is halfway across the courtyard, and my heart drops when I can't even catch a glimpse of my friends.

They slowly begin to disperse, and I feel my heart take a quick break from beating as I spot him—Peter. His hair is just as messy as I remember, eyes scanning the crowd as he breaks away, and I quickly have to look away to avoid suspicion. It makes everything feel more vivid just seeing him.

I duck under an overhang and pause for a second to catch my breath. "Is seeing him really that terrifying? You're heart rate's drastically elevated." My eyes screw shut as I try to make the world stop spinning under my feet. "Not that this will help, but he's approaching your position."

"Crap." I mutter and start walking to a narrow stretch of shops. There are boutiques and the usual tourist destinations, which I quickly ignore too scared that he or one of my friends will end up in there. Instead, I push through the crowd until it thins out, and I spot the one little shop Dad and I discovered when we first came.

It's easy to miss if you don't know it's there—or if you don't happen to stumble by. The front is cluttered with old frames, portraits, and a few plants. Just past it you can see the skyline of mainland Italy, but the real beauty is inside the tiny, jam-packed space, where an old gentleman sits blowing glass into art. If you're lucky—like Dad and I were—he'll tell you about his craft and the history behind Murano glass.

I remember spending hours listening and watching in fascination as he worked. Dad and I both agreed it was a honor to see a master work, and to remember it, he bought me the most beautiful vase that we would keep on the table and fill with fresh flowers.

That place is a beautiful memory, which is why I keep going around the corner. I lean against the weather worn stone and listen to the water lapping and splashing. My head is clouded with longing to go back to a year ago. I'd give anything for just five minutes—with Dad, with the REM Trials not forcing me to constantly keep moving, with those small moments with Peter, and with those small moments of happiness.

"He's still approaching." ARTI tells me, and I almost swear out loud.

"Do you think he knows?"

"Honestly, I think he's following directions on his phone." I furrow my brow and listen to the approaching footsteps. They stop around the corner. I decide to take the chance, altering the light so no one can see me, and peer around the corner. Peter stands that, double checking his phone as he stands in front of the shop, and after a long minute, I realize how he knew about it—I told him all about it and every other place Dad and I visited.

It makes my eyes well up at the realization that he really listened. He remembered. Now, he's here—heading to this hidden gem in Venice. Beneath all the whirlpool of emotions, there's a question. Why?

I creep around the corner and listen. The sound of his voice makes me want to cry more. All he says is a simple, "Buongiorno." Yet it makes my knees go weak and realize just how much I missed him these past months.

The old gentleman looks up with a smile as he looks at Peter. "Buongiorno. Come posso aiutarla?"

It doesn't take having to see Peter's face to know he's internally panicking. "Hi, uh, I'm looking for a—uh—necklace."

"Special woman in your life?"

"Yeah, a very special woman." My heart drops to the ground and shatters at that. He must have moved on. I mean, why would he be talking like that when he hasn't seen me in six months? Answer: he wouldn't.

I shake my head and walk away. It hurts too much. I know this was pretty much bound to happen, but it doesn't make it any less painful. Tears stream down my face, and I forget to make some stupid fake-out before giving up on hiding right now.

It's hard to concentrate on anything, but I maintain the small fraction of my attention to wipe my eyes as I my way back to the main courtyard. My head is pounding, hands shake, and heart pounds. "Lia," ARTI calls, cutting through the static filling my brain, "you're blood sugar is dropping, and you haven't eaten since yesterday."

I groan, knowing he won't stop bugging me until I listen to him. It's not like he's wrong. My stomach is growling, but I've been far too nervous to eat anything. And it really doesn't help that using my the light half of my abilities drains me more than hours of shadow manipulation.

ARTI leads me to a restaurant and hacks into the system to get me a reservation. I collapse into the seat the hostess leads me to. It's a nice little spot under an umbrella at the cafe's courtyard seating.

I sit back, watching the clusters of people and my former classmates. It's oddly relaxing. The warm sun on my skin and fresh air all around. For a split second, I let my senses kick off high alert. ARTI's watching the entire area, which helps ease my nerves.

My head starts to clear and nerves calm down once I get some water and some of the best Sfogliatella I've ever had—but maybe that's just the low blood sugar and hunger speaking. I slowly begin to realize just how ridiculous this all is—risking so much to come to Venice for a glimpse of someone who's probably moved on by now.

Speaking of, he rounds the corner with a small gold bag in hand and a smile painted on his face that makes my heart ache. I mean, I'm happy that he's happy, but I wish I was the one making him smile. I miss that feeling.

My train of thought is interrupted as MJ walks out of the cafe and right up to Peter. "Boh." She states, and I would laugh if it didn't give me away or make me look insane. Of course, MJ would find the one word with a hundred different meanings that can get you out of most situations in the most straightforward way.

I try to ignore the look of pure panic on Peter's face as he hides the bag behind his back. It just confirms my suspicion. He moved on, and honestly, I'm not surprised it would be MJ. There was a time that he thought he liked her, and I guess he went back to that.

Suddenly the rest of my few seems terribly unappealing, and I toss down a couple euro on the table to cover the bill and tip. My chest aches to much to follow them, and I decide to walk around before catching up with them.

Right now, as much effort as I put into getting here, I can't watch him crush on one of my best friends. It's the equivalent of digging my heart out of my chest with a dirty spoon. I have no desire to put myself the immediate and lingering pain.

I make it out the courtyard and into a little open market before the screaming starts. People are screaming and shoving each other as the water comes rushing through. It knocks my feet out from under me, and I'm pretty sure I hit my head and body against one of the tables while simultaneously being pummeled with loose fruit.

Just as quickly as it came, it rushes back, and I struggle to regain my footing amidst the panicked crowd. "ARTI, where's Peter?"

"I can't quite pinpoint him, but judging by his last known location and his personal history, he's probably in the middle of this." I take a hesitant step forward and attempt to gather my energy to help before I'm given a mild shock. "You can't help him. It's too public and would put you at greater risk than you are right now."

"So I'm just supposed to leave him?"

"Regrettably, yes. You need to trust that he can handle himself like he has before and keep out of sight." ARTI argues, and I really wish for once he was wrong.

I hate myself for turning away, for running with the crowd, and most of all for leaving Peter to fight whatever this is alone. It's not what he would do. It's not what Dad would have done. But, I know neither of them would let me do anything else under the circumstances. They'd tell me to keep going and stay safe.

Still, it doesn't stop me from hating myself for it.


	5. Chapter 3

Hours later, I'm sitting on the bed of my hotel room, knees pressed against my chest and hair still wet from my shower. It took way a lot of scrubbing to get rid of the canal water smell. I used it to help distract myself, but I came right back to where I started—worrying about Peter.

The news footage isn't talking about him, but I know the truth. Peter wouldn't have run from a fight. Especially not when he thought people were in danger. It's a small comfort knowing he had help. "The Man of Mystery" is how the media refers to him, and I have to agree. He is a mystery with a fishbowl for a helmet and vomit green smoke for powers.

I keep going back over the videos. Something isn't right. Between the water monster and new hero happening at the same time feels too coincidental. I sigh and run my finger through my hair in the hopes of untangling the short mess as I try to figure out what's bothering me so much. Maybe it's just my history and training making me paranoid.

Then again, Nat always told me to trust my gut, and right now, it's saying things aren't right. I toss my phone aside since the video won't show me anything I missed. The best I can do is keep an eye out for anything else.

The sensors in the hallway activate, and the feed is automatically displayed across my lenses. All the lights are off, but it doesn't stop me from seeing what caused the disruption in Peter and Ned's room across the hall. In the split second it takes for my brain to process everything, my blood turns to ice in my veins.

Why? Because Nick Fury is here.

I swear I'm gonna puke. Like straight out of a cheap horror movie projectile vomit. The feeling only worsens when the other sensors trip as Peter and Ned walk down the hall. It takes everything in me to stay quiet and tucked away in my room.

All I can do is watch and listen. "What are you gonna do about your water monster?" Ned asks with a panicked look on his face.

"Nothing. It's dead." Peter shrugs with a hint of a smile. "Besides that Mysterio guy's all over it." His words only make my suspicions grow exponentially. "Look, I just wanna enjoy this trip and—and try to find Lia. We're heading to Paris next. I know a bunch of places she loves there, and she always used to say that the best place to hide is plain sight. So what's a better place than a city full of tourists?"

It takes me a second to process everything he said. Peter's looking for me? I thought he—the way he was looking at MJ. My head struggles to find a reasonable explanation. Maybe he really does like her, and he's just looking for me out of worry.

I'm brought back to my thoughts by a lapse in the conversation. Ned is lying on the couch, and I have a feeling he didn't fall asleep mid-sentence.

The theory is proven right when the low, commanding voice of Nick Fury echoes in my ears. "You're a very difficult person to contact, Spiderman."

"You're Nick Fury, and you just shot Ned."

"It's a mild tranquilizer. He'll be all right." I almost scoff at that. Mild doesn't put someone to sleep in two seconds flat. "So good to finally meet you. I saw you at the funeral. I didn't think that was a good time to exchange numbers."

"No, that would've been inappropriate."

"That's what I just said." Poor Peter, if he's not careful, Fury will eat him alive.

"The important thing is you're here. I would have liked to have your girlfriend here is as well, but circumstances won't exactly allow for it." Wait, does he know I'm here? If he did, why is he not over here arresting me or roping me in to whatever he needs Peter for? "I tried to bring you here. You avoided me, and now you're here. What a coincidence."

Please, this trip has been planned for months. Nick Fury is influential, but I doubt today would have gone down like it did if he knew about it that far in advance.

"Wait, was this a coincidence?"

Fury sidesteps the question entirely. "I used to know everything. Then I come back five years later, and I know nothing." _Welcome to my life, Nick._ "No intel. No team. And a high school kid is dodging my calls.

"Here's what I do know:" There's a pause, and I press my headphones against my ears to pick up every word—mentally scolding myself for not putting a camera in there as well as mics. "A week ago, a village in Mexico was wiped out by a cyclone. Witnesses say that cyclone had a face." Ned snores, which interrupts Fury's speech. "Three days ago a similar event in Morocco. A village was—"

Mr. Harrington approaches the open door, blissfully unaware of the internal spy master sitting in the room as he talks to Peter. I take the moment to pull up a map of the events. "ARTI, get me the location of that village in Mexico and put a pin in Morocco."

The door closes with a loud creak, and I thank myself for putting the mics in there. "Sorry, that was my teacher. You were saying?"

Nick continues with his speech. "A village was destroyed by what may well be another world-threatening—" Again, he's interrupted—this time by Betty. I zone out for a second, and that's when it clicks.

"ARTI, can you—can you pull up my gran's diaries? Look for any details that match the events Fury's describing. Don't worry about specifics. Give me _all_ the matches—no matter how small." I give him a second, silently dreading that he'll affirm my fear.

"I found a close match."

"Let me guess, it fits her descriptions of her world ending."

"Mhm."

"You've got to be kidding me." I groan. "Wait, how is it happening here? Gran wrote that it was a natural repercussion of trying to alter the nature of people's gifts. Can you find out how?"

"She never wrote it in her diaries, but I have it in the transcripts from Trish."

"Thank God she helped take care of Gran when I had to leave." I really wish I could've thanked her properly. "What does it say?"

"They were attempting to drain and infuse themselves with energy from their universe's infinity stones." ARTI explains. "She said the altering of the stones created an imbalance. To quote her, 'the universe had to fix the mistake. So it defended itself the only way it could. It created beings to reverse the damage by stripping everything back to the foundations.'"

"So why would they be appearing now? There _are_ no infinity stones to mess with. Thanos destroyed all of them after the initial battle, and if there was going to be any reaction to messing with them, it would have been after the Snap or final battle, not months later."

"Not to interrupt you're train of thought, but would you like me to patch you in to Karen's system?"

"Yeah, I need eyes on what's going on." I anxiously tap my fingers against my leg as I try to figure out what could be causing all this.

It only takes a minute for ARTI to patch into Karen's system so I see and hear everything that Peter is. From what I can tell, he's on a motor boat with Fury, driving to who knows where. "Stark left these for you." Fury calls as he offers Peter a small wooden case.

"Really?" I feel a pang in my chest. He doesn't know it, but Dad left one for both of us. I've been trying to forget about it. There's too much potential for drastic errors, and I'm not ready to handle that responsibility.

"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown." Fury says as if he knew what I was thinking. Dad left a large whole and a mass of responsibilities to bear when he died. "Stark said you wouldn't get that because it wasn't a Star Wars reference."

Of course, Dad said that. I shake my head with a laugh. It's precisely what he would do.

Fury eventually stops the boat at an entrance to one of the tunnels, which are a popular spook attraction in Venice. There's a whole network of the subterranean tunnels and crypts. I would expect nothing less from the infamous Nick Fury to use them as headquarters.

"You can lose the mask. Everyone here has seen you without it." Fury informs Peter as they walk in. "You'd only be feigning anonymity."

I lose the visual portion of the feed when he pulls his mask off, and it's a struggle to hear everything clearly. Fury goes through a list of introductions to people that I don't know, but my interest is piqued when Peter says one name. "Mysterio?"

"What?" The man asks, and I swear I've heard it before.

"Doesn't matter. It's what my friends have been calling you."

"Well, you can call me Quentin." Mysterio offers, "Quentin Beck."

I tap my lenses to activate ARTI, but before I can even tell him what to do, he's already on it. "Don't worry. I'm running his name through all the systems."

Mysterio keeps talking, complimenting Peter, but it's not until he makes one comment that the pieces start to stack up. "We could use someone like you on my world."

"His world?" I question.

Peter seems to be wondering the same thing, and if the circumstances were any different, I'd melt at the way we still work on the same wavelength. "I'm sorry. Your world?"

Fury interjects, "Mr. Beck _is_ from earth. Just not yours."

'Beck' elaborates, and each word make my blood rise another degree. "There are multiple realities. This is Earth dimension six sixteen. I'm from Earth eight three three."

I can't hold it in this time. My legs can barely support me as I stumble to the sink and empty my stomach. There's no way this is happening. It's not real. Beck is lying; he _has_ to be.

"I'm sorry, you're saying there's a multiverse? 'Cause I thought that was theoretical." Peter excitedly questions, and it makes me hurt that I wasn't the one that got to tell him all about it. We used to talk about all the different scientific theories that can't be proven yet. "That changes how we understand the initial singularity. We're talking about an eternal inflation system. How does that even work with all the quantum—?"

I can't help the tears that stream down my cheeks—both from getting sick and missing my sweet, nerdy boyfriend. "It's insane." He finishes before stuttering out, "S-sorry. It's really cool. I wish that—nevermind."

"Don't ever apologize for being the smartest one in the room." Beck tells him, and I roll my eyes at the charm game he's playing.

"Did you find any information on him yet?"

"Still looking through government systems. It's going to take a minute to narrow the search without knowing where to look."

I tune myself back into the conversation happening wherever Peter is. Beck's voice fills my ears and makes me want to vomit all over again. "They were born in stable orbits within black holes. Creatures formed from the primary elements: air, water, fire, and earth."

"You're missing a few, idiot." I mumble as if he could hear me.

Of course, he continues on because he can't. "The Science Division had a technical name, but we just called them Elementals."

"Versions of them exist across our mythologies." _Because the stories echoed from the fallen worlds without anyone realizing it_ , I think to myself.

"Turns out the myths are real." Beck adds.

"Like Thor." Peter states. "Thor was a myth. Now I study him in my physics class."

Fury rejoins the conversation. "These myths are threats."

"They first materialized on my Earth many years ago." Beck tells. "We mobilized and fought them, but with each battle, they grew stronger. I was part of the last battalion to try to stop them. All we did was delay the inevitable."

Okay, so he has a _few_ details that line up with the stories my Gran told, but I doubt he's telling even a sliver of truth.

"The Elementals are here now, attacking the same coordinates. Our satellites confirm it." The woman, Maria Hill, I think, states.

"So thank Mr. Beck for destroying the other three." Fury calls, which makes me more confused. You can truly defeat them. 'Beck' even said it in his own speech. You can only delay and push them back, but they _always_ come back stronger until their job is done. "There's only one left."

"Fire, the strongest of them all." Beck adds. "The one that destroyed my Earth. It's the one that took my family."

"I'm sorry." Peter offers, not knowing that it's likely all a lie. Pieces of this are _my family's story_. They're taken almost word for word from what my Gran has recollected.

"And it will be in Prague in approximately 48 hours."

"We have one mission: kill it. And you're coming with us." I shake my head wondering how complex Beck's story is and how many things he's gotten wrong. "And you're coming with us."

I halfway listen to the rest of the conversation while I pack my things back up. No matter how much he protests, I know _exactly_ what's going to happen. Peter's going to Prague, but this time, I'm not running from this fight.

"ARTI, plan a route to Prague—again. We're circling back on our tracks."

"I'll get started on that, but I should bring it to your attention that I found a match for Quentin Beck." I immediately stop what I'm doing and wait for him to elaborate. "He's a software engineer, previously based in New York, and former employee of Stark Industries."

"Why would—?" I start to ask, but then it hits me. ARTI pulls up his employee picture, affirming my memory. He was at the MIT demonstration I went to with Dad. I remember it because he got upset when he thought I was a high school intern. He rambled on about how many accomplishments he had and how no on understood his brilliance. "Show me his file."

ARTI goes through his entire file, which paints the picture of an egotistical maniac with a superiority complex and a distain for authority. He was fired shortly after that demo for destroying the lab in a bout of rage.

It all starts to click as the pieces fall into place. He's after revenge. Likely against what's left of my father, and with my identity still a secret and Pepper and Morgan protected at all times, there's only one person left. "No, no, no, no. I have to warn Peter. He needs to know before it's too late."

"How do you plan to do that? He'll be under Fury's watch at all times. If you contact him, you'll be caught."

"Then we're just gonna have to get a little creative." I tell him and shove my things into my bag. "First, I've gotta figure out how Beck came up with his story, and how he's pulling this off."

"And then?"

"I'm going to destroy him for coming after my family."


	6. Chapter 4

The old man behind the desk is a little less than chipper when I check out just after six am. I make sure to give him the rest of the money I owed and slipped in a little extra. Money's tight when you're on the run, but it's pretty obvious this place isn't doing a lot of business, so I can spare a little bit more than usual.

I walk back to the ferry station. All I can think about is if I should just break cover and talk to Peter directly. It would risk everything. Six months of running and shutting down parts of the REM trials operation would virtually undone. If I'm arrested, the countdown begins until they gets their hands on me.

Even knowing what's happening, I can't. It would put Peter, Morgan, and countless other people in danger. I'm working with a pretty much non-existent margin of error. How I'm going to pull this off is beyond me, but I'll never forgive myself if I don't try.

The moment my feet touch down on the mainland, I look around for my next ride. Luckily, there's a rental lot nearby with a small selection of different sized cars. "Okay, ARTI, I'm gonna need you to work your magic." I say and walk through the small section of cars. "Can you get into their system and create a fake rental agreement?"

"Already done." He tells me. "I've also accessed the car's systems. It won't sound any alarms, and the skeleton key will work."

"Perfect. Then we're off to Prague." I mumble as I slip on my gloves and toss my rucksack into the passenger seat and slip the skeleton key I've pieced together over the months into the ignition. ARTI pulls up the route, which starts the over nine hour drive.

It gives me time to think of ways to warn Peter and make sure Beck pays for everything he's done and trying to do. I crank up the radio and listen to the wide variety of songs pouring through the radio to help me ease my nerves, but it doesn't really help. Especially when ARTI gives me the news I've been simultaneously hoping for and dreading since last night. "He just accessed EDITH."

"And?"

"He asked about you."

I crack a half smile at that, but it quickly fades as the worry settles back in. When I first got access to EDITH's systems, I did some digging. Dad had spent a large chunk of the Blip cultivating her database and systems, but it felt too real. Even her name was a reminder that he died—that he knew it was going to happen. He named her EDITH—even dead, I'm the hero.

The man loved his acronyms, which is another thing he passed on to me.

I kept with ARTI, letting him be my gateway into EDITH if I ever needed her. The day I got the call from Clare was the first and last time I've accessed her systems. She helped me set up what I needed to run and stay off the grid entirely, and I put in protocols that made sure when Peter got his glasses to access her systems, he wouldn't be able to know where I was. Not to mention, all the paperwork for me to officially test out of the rest of senior year and 'graduate.

"Then I guess it's a good thing I made sure to keep my location shielded from her, huh?"

"In a way, yes, but you need to remember there's only so long you can carry on like this. Need I remind you why we had to leave Prague so quickly?"

"I didn't have a choice, and you know that. There was no way I could leave those people there, or let that lab stay intact." I drum my fingers against the steering wheel. "I couldn't stand by knowing that no matter how many cells I unlocked, they'd fill them back up in no time."

"I'm not saying you did the wrong thing, but it was a narrow escape. You need someone to have your back if we're to truly stop this for good."

"That doesn't give me the right to just ruin his life—again." I sigh and hold back the tears, "He's moving on, finding new ways to be happy, and creating his new normal, which I'm pretty sure doesn't include me. After everything we went through, I don't want to put him through this too, and that's final."

ARTI doesn't add anything more to the matter, and I press a little harder on the gas pedal. It's still a few hours to get to Prague. I just have to get there quickly. Who knows what chaos Beck plans to create, and I don't want to him to get any more of a head start than I can help. "Maybe I should have just shadow traveled."

"Maybe, but you wouldn't have any energy left for whatever's coming next." I nod. He's right, whenever I shadow travel, the greater the distance means the greater exhaustion. It's how I got out of Prague in the first place. I shadow travelled my way back all the way to London on instinct. The second I emerged though, I found out I'm a lot like Nico in Percy Jackson. I passed out for over a day and had to take another day to recover fully.

It's weird, I've learned more about my powers—both light and shadow—and their limits these past six months than I ever knew possible. I found out how to really control my supernova's, which I'm pretty sure were how my light abilities initially manifested.

"Um, Lia? It appears that EDITH just released a strike drone targeting Brad Davis? He's listed as a student on the trip."

"Wasn't he that kid that used to cry and get nosebleeds all the time?" I ask myself before fully processing what ARTI said. "Wait, did you say a strike drone?"

"Yes, I did. It's being discharged from the satellite as we speak."

"Crap, and I can't counteract the command without setting off an alert to Peter." I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white. "I swear, if I was around while Dad was programming her, I would have made sure this kind of thing couldn't just happen."

"Well, EDITH is still relatively young. She's still learning and upgrading."

"That's not what's important right now. How do we stop it?"

"It appears Peter has already done that for us."

"And you couldn't have told me that before I had a heart attack."

"One, you're not having a heart attack. Two, the boy works very quickly."

"It doesn't mean I forgive you." I retort, pulling the car into a random parking spot . "Give me ten minutes and let the car get flagged."

"Scanning for trace evidence. Nothing detected."

I nod closing the car door and heading into the crowd. "It's already the carnival of lights?"

"Yes, it is, which only makes the potential for casualties increase exponentially."

"All the more reason to kick Beck's ass and stop whatever he's got planned." I say as I weave my way through the people. "Where are they supposed to be staying?"

"A five star hotel near the center of town and far out of our parameters."

"I know, but I—i don't really wanna be far from him right now. Check the security system, see if we can get the service entrance unlocked, and get me a image of their housekeeping uniforms."

"Please, tell me you're not—"

"Gonna pose as part of their staff? Yes, I am."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I'm not sure of much anymore, ARTI. All I know is that I have to help Peter, even if it means taking risks." He doesn't say or do anything for a long minute, but after a long minute, he pulls up the route and the code as he gets into the hotel's security system. "Thank you."

Five minutes later, I'm slipping through the service entrance unnoticed. A few employees offer me a quick glance, but no one bothers to ask questions. It's a trick I learned a long time ago, if you pretend like you belong somewhere, people around you start to believe it too. I used to do it when I used to sneak in and visit Dad whenever he was working. Anyone who thought to question it was just told I was an intern Tony was helping mentor.

I slip into a supply closet and 'borrow' a house keeping and room service uniform. It'll give me access to the entirety of the hotel without drawing any attention. No one pays any attention to people in uniforms. It's better than going invisible.

"Peter and your classmates have arrived." ARTI informs me and pulls up the security camera feed of the lobby where they're entering. "Also, I'm detecting an unusual frequency in the secondary dining room. The only time I've seen it before is when—when SHIELD is around."

"You've got to be kidding. What, did Fury get tired of secret underground headquarters?"

"Actually, I think SHIELD is taking control of the hotel as we speak."

"I swear, being on the run doesn't get any easier." I sigh and loop a couple of the camera feeds. "I need the building schematics. We've got to find a way to eavesdrop on their conversation."

"There's an air vent that connects from the hallway to the dining room, but it's too narrow for you to fit inside."

"Then I'll send in a shadow." I shrug and sit down with my back against a shelf full of fluffy white towels. "Watch the door, ARTI. I'm going in."

The world tunes out as I close my eyes and focus on creating and guiding my shadows through the air ducts and into the dining room where Fury sits with SHIELD ageists setting up their equipment. I almost gag at the sight of Beck. He's decked out in what I can only describe as a collage of someone having searched 'futuristic hero costume' on google and pasting the top results into an outfit.

How on earth is anyone buying this crap?

My questions fade as I spot Peter staring into the fireplace. I reach out to him despite the fact that I'm nothing but shadow right now. Not that it would matter much, he's so lost in his own head. I know because he's making the face. It's the one that always made an appearance when he was worried about something. Except usually, we were there to make sure the other didn't get lost in their own head.

"Parker? Parker!" Fury calls, abruptly bringing Peter back to reality.

"Yes, sir."

"That thing is going to be here in a few hours." He states with the classic Fury sass and anger. "Are we boring you?"

"He's not bored." Beck interjects before Peter can mutter a single syllable. "He's just thinking about how you kidnapped him."

Fury doesn't seem to take that well. "He had obstacles. I removed them."

Hill turns around looking frustrated. "They still won't evacuate the city."

"Idiots." Fury mumbles and shakes his head. Not that I'm surprised. There's no proof that anything is coming. Maybe because it's because this is all the scheme of a psychotic megalomaniac. Not that any of them realize that yet. "So what's the plan, Parker?"

I look to Peter, who despite the brave face he's trying to put on, looks a little terrified as he recites back the \\. "I will be in the cathedral tower, keeping watch for the fire monster. When that shows up, I will radio you guys, and then Mr. Beck and I will—"

Cue Beck's ego interrupting as he says, "My name is Mysterio." I end up gagging at that, which Is fine since I'm only here through my shadows instead of in person. It just figures that he'd take on the ridiculous name a bunch of teenagers made up.

Peter offers a small chuckle at that, and I can't help but frown. It hurts to see him smiling at a man who only wants to destroy him. Beck is charming, and he must be laying it on thick to make Peter like and trust him.

I wait and listen to the rest of the plan, which gets interrupted by Beck grandstanding. Every bit of supposed 'advice' he offers only makes his story sound more ridiculous. Fury and Hill share a look, and I wonder if they're starting to see how preposterous this all is.

The worry in Peter's voice makes me wish I could Supernova level obliterate Beck right here and now. It hurts to see someone I care about dealing with this alone, even if it is a big charade. "Hey, my friends are here, and I can't help but think we're putting them in danger."

"You worry about us hurting your friends?" Fury shouts as he gets to his feet. "You, who called a drone strike on your own school tour bus? Stark gave you a multi-billion dollar A.R. tactical intelligence system, and the first thing you do with it, is to try and blow up your friends."

What is Fury compensating for? Anyone with experience in AI's knows that it they take time to analyze, learn, and improve. Plus, EDITH is basically a toddler that's eager to please. You'd think the director of an international spy organization would understand that. Especially knowing all the skeleton's he's stashed in the closet over the course of his career.

Of course, the great Nick Fury is never wrong, so he continues on his rampage until I'm about ready to risk getting caught for busting out of my hiding place to his good eye a solid punch. I can only imagine how Peter must feel when Fury shouts at him, "It's clear to me that you were not ready for this."

Peter just stands there and takes it. Though, I know he's torn to shreds by that. He looked up to my Dad, and every day since I've met him, he's done everything possible to be the best he can. But Fury obviously doesn't care about anything but his own bottom line.

I pull myself back from the shadows and into my own body. "This is gonna be a mess. ARTI, can you get me a map of all the cathedrals in the city and pinpoint which ones are likely to be the location of tonight's 'attack.' Use what Beck said to help narrow the search."

"What will you do in the meantime?"

"Try not to murder Beck?" I joke and sigh. "You know what? Screw the part of the plan that includes staying here. I need some air."

"Then I suggest you suit up and get into position. I have the location that will draw the most attention and potential destruction."

"Then let's go." I slip my suit on and toss everything else in my rucksack. "Alright, let's get out of here and start looking for a way to prove Beck's a complete nutcase."

I slip out as easily as I came in and head back onto the crowded streets where the carnival of lights is in full swing. People all around are wearing lights and glow sticks. Some carry lamps or wear extravagant costumes. It's one of the biggest celebrations of the year from what I've been told and lasts for three days.

The whole area is jam packed. Music and laughter fills the air in a way that almost makes me smile, but it's hard to knowing in a matter of hours this will probably all be destroyed by one man's insane revenge plan.

I can see why he picked here. Especially if his supposed monster will be 'more powerful' by getting a hold of metal. There's statues, a ferris wheel, a carousel, and countless stands offering carnival goods. Not to mention, you can barely breathe without bumping into someone else, which means plenty of attention.

It takes me a few minutes to find a place I can watch everything from. People start screaming and running away in panic. I have absolutely no idea what they're seeing, but I'm pretty sure it has something to with the swarm of drones flying, blasting, and wreaking havoc.

"ARTI, can you tell me what they're seeing?" A second later, I see the overlay of the drone's projections. There's a large monster of what looks like lava? Beck really is putting everything into this, huh?

It swings around, smashing cars, and pretty much anything metal. All I can do is watch intently as it goes down and try to find a way to gather evidence. I'm distracted when Peter swings by, hitting the 'monster' with something and rips a fire extinguisher out of the ground to drench it. 

The effects don't last for long. After all, it's just a bunch of drones using blasts and hologram projections. They circle around the carousel, blasting it to pieces and making the projection larger. I can Peter beginning to panic as he looks around in terror after being thrown against the ferris wheel. "No, Beck! He's got the carousel! He's getting bigger!"

Shouts echo from the ferris wheel, and I look up to see Ned and Betty frantically waving their arms and calling out for 'Night Monkey'?

It takes everything in me to not rush in and help Peter as the drones turn towards him. Of course, projection Beck swoops in and 'block's the monster. I swear, every second watching makes me hate this egotistical maniac even more. It figures he'd be the one thing that actually has an affect on this supposed 'monster,' which only feeds his need for attention and ego.

I move around the courtyard and try to get a better vantage point. "SHIELD agents and Fury are on their way."

"Crap." I mumble and press myself further into the shadows. "ETA?"

"Five minutes at most."

I turn back towards the fight when I hear the ferris wheel creaking. The drones are currently shrouded and surrounding both sides of it to maintain the illusion and push it farther. Peter fires a web at them without realizing what he's going to hit instead. I take a deep breath and push the drone into the line of fire.

Peter's web attaches to the drone, which makes him yell out in confusion. He yanks it back, and I direct it towards an empty alleyway. It lands with a clatter, and I let myself drift into shadows as I slip over to it.

What I find is more a whole lot more than I was expecting. MJ peers out of an alcove, watching the events in horror and curiosity. The drone is just by her feet, and I take a deep breath. I've been searching for a way to get Peter evidence without directly interfering. I suppose this is the closest to indirect I can get.

I gather my courage before stepping out from the shadows, which immediately draws MJ's attention. "Phantom?" She whispers, but surprisingly, she doesn't seem scared.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" ARTI asks, and I know I am. She was one of my best friends, and she's always been the best at keeping secrets—aside from her matchmaking endeavors that is. 

I take a deep breath as I lower my hood and slip off my mask. "Hey, MJ. Long time no see."

"Huh. I wasn't expecting that." She nods. "I knew you had something you were hiding, but I didn't expect this."

"Yeah, not many people know about it, and I trust you to keep it a secret."

"You know me. Keeping secrets is my superpower." She pauses for a moment. "Is it true? What they're saying you about you?"

"No, and the explanation is a long story that I don't have time to get into." I sigh and pick up the drone piece. "I—I need a favor."

"Okay."

"I need you to get this to Peter as soon as possible. I can't tell you why without putting you in a lot of danger, but just get it to him and tell him where you found it."

"Why can't you?"

"Because,—"

"Does it have something to do with him being Spiderman?"

I chuckle softly, "Figures you would put the pieces together. He's not the best at hiding things, and you've always been observant."

"So is that a yes?"

"Yeah. I can't risk anyone knowing I'm here. If anyone found out—well, let's just say no one would be hearing from me indefinitely, and it would put everyone I know in danger." I extend the drone piece to her, "Right now though, Peter's in danger, which is why he needs to see this. Please, MJ, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't serious."

"I figured." She nods and takes the drone piece. "I'll make up a story of how I found it and get it to him as soon as possible."

"Thank you." I smile and pull her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry I can't stay for long."

"I am too." She replies and pulls a way with an understanding smile. "It hasn't been the same without you, and honestly, Peter's been a mess these past few months."

"Really?"

"Are you kidding? He's been all mopey and sad these past few months."

"I haven't been so great either." Tires screech as a line of cars enter the courtyard. "I have to go. Remember, get his straight to Peter, and—and keep an eye on him for me?"

MJ nods, and I offer her a thankful smile as I go.

It's a struggle for me to walk away. With everything Beck's been pulling, I need to stop him before it goes too far, which makes it hard to relinquish control. But right now, all I can do is walk away and pray that MJ gets the drone part to Peter in time.


	7. Chapter 5

I barely make it to my hideout for the night when I the alert comes through my system. "ALERT: PRIMARY TRANSFER OF CONTROL." My heart stops in my chest. The ground starts shaking under me—or maybe I'm just shaking; it's hard to tell. All I know is that I can barely breathe as I collapse on the floor.

"ARTI? Please, tell me he didn't."

It's quiet, which only confirms my fear.

"No, no, no." I press my hands to my eyes and watch the array of colors on the back of my eyes. "This is just a bad dream. It's just a really, really bad dream. Please, let it just be a bad dream."

"I'm afraid it's not." ARTI tells me, and the proof that it's truly real makes tears stream down my cheeks. "It appears that this was part of Beck's plan all along. I've tapped into EDITH's feed when Peter transferred his control."

"How? Isn't he technically a primary user now?" I pause, thinking it over, "Unless you used the momentary lapse in the security protocols for the transfer to access the previously restricted parts of EDITH's system. You've been studying my hacking methods, haven't you?"

"I've been with you for years now, which means I've gotten to learn a lot from you."

"Aw, is that an actual compliment?"

"Of sorts." He replies and shows me the information he can access. "I can't get a visual or override any of his commands now that Beck is a primary user, but I can track his every step, obtain an audio feed, and provide you with real-time information about what he's using EDITH's systems for."

"Good. I need his location and run the voice of anyone he interacts with through the system. He can't be working alone in this. It's too intricate, too personal, and too well funded to be him and motley crew."

"Already working on it."

"And his location?" I ask after a long moment passes without any noticeable shift from ARTI, but he remains quiet. "I'm not gonna argue on this. If we let him keep going, there's no telling what damage he'll do. It's better to stop him now before he gains too much more momentum or gets too acquainted with EDITH."

"It's too dangerous. He's likely still under Fury's watch—I'll admit not constantly if he's getting away with this, but enough to put you at an unnecessarily high risk."

My shoulders roll back as the trademark Stark stubbornness boils under my skin. "It's not unnecessary if it helps save people—if it helps save my friends—if it—if it helps keep Peter safe."

"I'm afraid I have to disagree. Peter can take care of himself, but if you're caught, it gives the people behind the Trials exactly what they want. Not to mention what happens if they find out your lineage." There's a pause, and I can already feel myself deflating knowing what he's about to say. "Think of Morgan. Do it for her safety as much as yours."

"They shouldn't have to be separate issues. I should be able to protect both of them at once." I snap and ball my hands into fists to resist the urge to throw my glasses—and ARTI—across the room. "I don't care about the risks anymore ARTI. Morgan's got Happy and the rest of the Avengers watching over her. She'll be fine. So give me the location. Now!"

"You know I can't go against my base code. The best I can give you is the audio feed."

I rip my glasses off so forcefully they nearly snap in half. My mood only darkens as Beck's smug voice echoes in my ears. "This is a big win, but we still got a lot of work to do." It's almost drowned out by the chants for a toast, which confirms my suspicion that he's got his own team behind him. "Okay, toasts!" Beck shouts joyously, and my blood begins to boil with a brewing supernova.

The energy shows a glow under my skin, and I quickly release it in a quick slash that leaves a deep, burning cut in the wall of the abandoned building. If ARTI isn't going to tell me where Beck is, I'll just find and stop him myself.

Beck continues on sounding more smug with every syllable that he speaks. "To the man who brought us all together, our former boss, Tony Stark."

If I was enraged before, there's no words for it now. It only worsens with the chorus of 'boo's that arise from the crowd. "Lia, I must advise you that your heart rate and energy levels are reaching dangerous levels."

"Not now." I seethe through gritted teeth.

"The jester king," Beck continues, "Literally wrapped in wealth and technology that he was unfit to wield—like the holographic system I designed."

"You mean theorized?" I scoff, "It would be nothing but a pipe dream if Dad hadn't funded and helped make it into something."

"A revolutionary breakthrough with limitless applications that Tony turned into a self-therapy machine and renamed Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, or 'BARF' as he liked to call it."

I stop in my tracks. Beck really has lost his mind. Dad saw the immense good that could come from the system. The psychiatric therapy it could provide to countless people, but I remember how Beck ranted to me about how it would be so much better for military applications like training soldiers in combat without risking any bloodshed. But I know how Dad was, he was sick of fighting, and after everything that happened when Stark Industries made weapons, he vowed to never let them create another.

"He renamed my life's work 'BARF.'" Beck complains, which was never against him. Dad just liked acronyms—even if they spelt things that weren't awesome. Heck, we even made a project together that ended up being titled 'CRAP.' Cellular Repair Analysis Program was supposed to be a healing ability for the suits, but we never got it to work. It never meant Dad hated it; it's just the name that worked.

"I told him it was a mistake, that my technology could change the world. And then, he fired me. He said I was, unstable." Because you're a megalomaniac that has severe issues with authority and destroyed a lab over being told 'no' for once. "To Tony."

"To making you regret ever crossing me and may family again." I whisper as I weave through the slowly emptying streets of Prague. All I need to do is find a place that Beck would have been able to dress up for his scheme.

"Next to William," Beck calls, and I listen closely to William's story. His voice sounds startlingly familiar. I know I've heard it before. The only way to be sure would be to ask ARTI, but I refuse to ask. He doesn't seem to be in the helpful mood right now.

Instead, I continue to listen to the infuriating voice of Beck. "The integration of my illusion tech with your weaponized drones was brilliant." Figures there was an actual brain behind this. "Powerful illusions, real damage, worked like a charm. And it's just the beginning."

"Thank you, brother." William calls, and it still pesters me that I can't place his voice.

"To Guterman," Beck calls out someone else, and this time I know where I recognize the name—along with William's voice. My thought is confirmed as Beck continues his congratulations, "The story you created of a solider from another earth named Quentin fighting in Europe is totally ridiculous—" His voice fades out as it all hits me.

My blood runs cold. They really did transplant my family's story to use it for their own gain. Guterman was part of the OSCORPS outreach program at my Gran's nursing home, which means he probably heard her rambling about it hundreds of times on her bad days, and I'm fairly certain I met William at one of Jim's work events.

ARTI pulls up the profile of each person in turn. Funny how he suddenly decided to help out again, but he confirms the theory. Each person worked for Stark Industries and left or were poached to work at OSCORPS. It's true. I was right all along; they've been hunting me for most of my life, ruined my life six months ago, and sent the Reaper after me when I started retaliating.

"And to the rest of you," Beck's voice comes back into focus, still sounding as smug as ever, "Tony Stark is gone. There's a window of opportunity, and someone will step up. But these days, you can be the smartest guy in the room, the most qualified, and no one cares. Unless you're flying around with a cape, or shooting lasers from your hands, no one will even listen."

Figures he'd be one of the jerks who hates REMS, or anyone else who fills the positions you're incapable of. Thing is, he's wrong. People listen to those they trust, and it's hard to do that with someone who only values themselves and the power they acquire. 

But that doesn't fit his narrative. So of course, he'll refuse to recognize that.

"Well, I've got a cape and lasers." He brags, and the people around him chuckle. "With our technology and with EDITH, Mysterio will be the greatest hero on Earth! Then everyone will listen. Not to a boozy man-child. Not to a hormonal teenager. To me—and to my very wealthy crew. To us!"

I lean against a wall as the anger, bitterness, and hatred press against my skin like a pressure cooker. The edges of the world darken. All I can think is two words over and over, 'Destroy them. Destroy them.' If they want to ruin my life, let's see how they feel when it's them instead.

My hands go numb as I branch out with my shadows, searching relentlessly for any signs of Beck or his crew. It's draining, but I can't bring myself to care. Not right now. All I can think about is the damage being done with every second that goes to waste without finding and stopping them. Beck's speech is proof that they'll stop at nothing to get their way. He's like a spoiled toddler throwing a tantrum––anything that happens to get his way is nothing more than collateral damage.

All I know for sure is no matter what it takes. Even if it kills me, I'm going to ruin them to the point where everyone will think twice before crossing me or those I love ever again.


	8. Chapter 6

By the time the sun rises, I've walked what feels like the entire city. ARTI still refuses to give me the location of EDITH—much less where to find Beck. All he's told me is that I need to sleep and there's been a software hack uploaded into EDITH's network.

A part of me hates that his base coding is to keep me from danger, and it really doesn't help that I can hear everything being said around EDITH. The only thing that makes me feel a little bit better is the anger and fear in Beck's voice when he realizes that there's a projector missing. Of course, it's a double edged sword. Because it means it's only a matter of time before he puts the pieces together and goes after Peter.

"You know, William. One day after I've had to kill Peter Parker because of this, I hope you remember that this blood is on your hands!" Beck shouts at the man in charge of his precious drones. How all these people are stupid enough to not have seen until now that they're following a complete psychopath is beyond me.

"Don't be so sure about that, Beck," I whisper as I pull up the tracker imbedded in Karen's code. I've got to find him—and fast. Even if he can't know I'm here, it doesn't mean I can't protect him. "Because I might just kill you first, and that blood will be on you."

I decide to take the risk and meld into shadow to make it to the train station just as he does. It takes everything in me to remain out of sight. This is the closest we've been since Venice, but this time the danger makes it so much more tempting to go to him.

It's too much to fight anymore—even if he is on his way to meet Fury. I find myself pushing against the wind, fighting for every inch it takes to get closer to him. Screw the danger. He's already in too much because I played it careful—because I though it best to keep my distance.

I can't help but hesitate as I'm mere inches away. There's so many question I have, and I'm sure he has twice as many. So much time apart has only strengthened the immense worry and self doubt. As ridiculous as it sounds, I can't help but wonder how he'll react, if he'll resent me for everything that's happened, or if it will be like nothing changed at all.

My fingers brush against his shoulder, which makes me slip with the force of the wind. Peter's head snaps right toward me, but of course, he can't see me just yet. I slowly lessen my cover enough to where he'd faintly be able to see and recognize me. His eyes widen, but he quickly shakes his head, "No, focus, Peter."

I open my mouth to say something—anything to tell him I'm not a figment of his imagination—that I'm really here, but the train breaks through the tunnel and out into the wide expanse of Berlin. Peter pushes himself to his feet and runs farther down the length of the train until he finds a pole to swing from. All the while, I watch him go.

It takes me a moment to snap back to my senses. I let myself fade into shadow and search for Peter. ARTI displays the tracker location, and my body aches for a moment's rest as I push harder and harder to catch up to him. I can see him a few meters ahead of me when a black car pulls up, surrounded by drones that project the image of—of Nick Fury in the front seat.

"No, no, no." I whisper and try to make it to them, but they're gone before I can so much as blink. The ground starts to rock under my feet. Memories of the last time in Berlin meld with the panic of the situation until I forget where I actually am. "Focus, Lia. He—Peter—Peter needs you right now." I try to remind myself, but it only takes more air from my lungs that I can't quite get back.

I screw my eyes shut and bury my hands in my hair. The logical part of me can't understand what's going on, but the emotional part drowns it out as it screams at me. "Last time you were here was when your life started to fall apart. Now, it's Peter's turn. Dad would be so disappointed if he saw you now. Nat probably wouldn't even look at you out of shame for how poorly you've handled all this. Maybe it's time you gave up, resigned yourself to the fact that this will never end, that you'll never win this fight."

My body aches as I clench teeth and ball my trembling hands into fists. "Maybe I won't, but I wasn't raised to quit. It's not over until you stop breathing." I repeat it to myself as I push on despite the panic tightening around my heart. Nat always used to say that to me when I wanted to give up, and it's exactly what I have to tell myself now that she's gone.

I try not to think about all the time I lost because of my panic attack. Right now, I need to find a way to make it to Peter without using up all my energy and any real form of transport. "ARTI? I know you're mad at me right now, but I need a car—fast." It's quiet for a second, and I feel my heart drop. My voice cracks as it drops to a pleading whisper, "Please."

It's quiet, and I start running towards the tracking beacon in a desperate attempt to get to him. The chances of me making it before he gets too hurt are slim if absolutely nothing, but it's Peter. There's no way I can stand back as it happens and know I didn't try everything.

A car practically hits me as I run across a street, and I almost keep going before I notice there's no one in the driver seat. "Get in. I'll drive." ARTI says as the door swings open. I hop in, hands balled into fists as the car goes from zero to sixty under his control. "I know how much he means to you. I promise I'll get you there in time."

"Thank you." I reply softly as I look around for any sign of Peter and Beck. The car comes to a screeching halt in what looks like an office building that's being renovated, and my feet hit the pavement the second we do. "I need an exact location, ARTI."

"It looks like he's down the alleyway around the—" His voice goes quiet as I push my body into a full sprint around the corner, where Peter looks around frantically, completely unaware that he's surrounded by drones.

I have to force myself to stay back for a moment until I can alter the light around me until I have no reflection, no visibility to cameras or people, with the only exception being Peter. In the split second it takes for me to do that, the drones circle him, projecting an illusion that keeps him in place.

My hands shake and heart drops to subterranean levels as I weave through the drones to get to him. All the while Beck's voice rings from each of them. "I mean, look at yourself." Peter moves to touch what looks like a mirror when the drones close in on him. It looks like he's being attacked by a hundred Spidermen, dressed in Peter's normal suit, and I push to reach him without alerting any of the drones and killing both of us.

"You are just a scared little kid." Beck calls, "in a sweat suit." The illusion shifts so it looks like Peter's back in the suit that he wore before Dad and I designed him a new one, the one he was wearing when our alter egos first met.

"Don't listen to him, Pete." I call just loud enough for him to hear since I can't reach him just yet.

"I created Mysterio to give the world someone to believe in." Beck continues, sounding more delusion than ever. "I control the truth. Mysterio is the truth."

Okay, yeah, he's definitely lost the few marbles he had left.

The illusion shifts again, and the drones swarm until I'm pushed farther and farther away from Peter until I can only watch in horror. He doesn't know what he's doing. Everything Beck's created too strong for Peter to see what's around him.

He shoots a web at Beck, and unknowingly pulls a crane down towards him. My reflex takes over and uses my shadows to push him out of the way in time to avoid being crushed. After that, he seems to find a bit of momentum as he skillfully dodges the Mysterio illusion.

There's a break in the drones as the giant illusion fist comes tumbling down on Peter and turning into the same ugly green fog projected all around. When it dissipates, Peter is back in his real suit with a stone projected in front of him. "If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still be alive."

I freeze. 

Beck didn't just go there. 

But, oh, he did.

If I wasn't already gonna kill him, he would have just sealed his fate with the his own hands. Especially as a projects a dirt covered, broken version of my Dad in his Iron suit crawling from the grave. Tears pool under my eyes. Rage overtaking every corner of my brain.

"You son of a bitch." I grit my teeth.

"Deep down, you know know I'm right." Beck continues, and I look around for wherever he is. Knowing him, he'd want to watch like the sick, twisted, freak he is. If he is, it's not where I can see him. But I'll find him. I have to save Peter, to save whoever else might die in this crusade of his, and to save my father's legacy from being any further tainted by him.

"ARTI, find Beck and get me a clear line of sight."

"What do you plan to do?"

"That's none of your concern right now." I tell him as I return my focus back to Peter, who is being approached by another illusion of Fury.

"Beck's people are trying to find everyone who could expose them." 'Fury' calls as he limps toward Peter.

"No, no, no, no." I chant as I work to close the distance between us.

'Fury' quickly starts to lose his patience, and I can see the terror starting to crush Peter. "Who else did you tell?"

"Peter, no!" I shout, and his head swivels around but never connects with me. He can hear me, but he can't see me. Beck's illusion must be all his eyes can process, which means, my best chance for him to see me is to get in front of the drones.

"Parker!" 'Fury' shouts at Peter. "I'm not gonna ask again—who did you tell?"

"Just Ned and MJ from my class." He says; tears evident in his voice. "Maybe Ned told his girlfriend, Betty, but that's it."

My hopes of getting Peter out of this and not dragging our friends into this shatter as Beck emerges from the shadows, smiling like he just won. His eyes trail around, likely in search of me after I blew my cover, but he never finds me. Of course, he's too caught up in his victory to really mind as he steps into the illusions place, arms crossed and a smug grin under his fish bowl helmet.

I only catch the tail end of his little speech as the drones drop the illusion entirely. "Just a—sucker. And now all your friends have to die."

"Oh my god." Peter cries and scrambles back as the drones start up a fresh illusion that forces him back farther. I decide to just end this right now and pull Nat's old gun from the holster on my thigh. She taught me a lot about being a hero. How to fight without powers, how to lie, how to hide, how to shoot to incapacitate, and for the extreme situations—how to kill.

I'm pretty sure she'd agree this is an extreme situation.

Solid stance, take aim, deep breath, and finger on the trigger when you're sure you wanna take the shot. I level the sight right on Beck's stupid, fish bowl covered head.

He continues his speech as he steps closer to Peter. "It's easy to fool people when people are already fooling themselves."

"Lia," ARTI calls, but I ignore him as I follow Beck with my sights, waiting for a drone to move for a clear shot. "Lia! Peter's in trouble."

I lower the gun and look around Peter in horror as I realize where he's standing. Right in the middle of a train track. "For what it's worth, Peter, I really am sorry."

A split second after he finishes his 'apology' a train comes speeding out and hits Peter, dragging him away with it. The scream and energy burst that erupts feels beyond me, and the drones drop like weights.

Beck's head immediately swivels, trying to pinpoint the source, and in that split second, I regain my aim. His eyes widen in horror, and he immediately makes a run for it. My hand moves to follow him, but my suit is stuck—frozen in place. "ARTI, let me go."

"No, I can't let you kill him."

"He just—" the words catch in my throat, choking me until I'm screaming for air, "—you saw what he did to—what he did to Peter. Oh god." ARTI releases the restrictions on the suit, and I collapse to my knees, the lower half of my mask retracting as I struggle to take in a breath and end up vomiting in the dirt. "He can't be—he can't be gone. I can't lose him too."

"I'm calling Happy." ARTI tells me and talks to the grumpy, panicked man, as I struggle process everything that just happened. "He'd like to speak to you."

There's a pause before Happy's voice fills my ears. "Lia? ARTI told me everything that's happened. I'm coming to get you, okay?" I can't bring myself to say anything, not with how bright everything is. It's like I'm out on a sunny day without glasses. "Lia, please, you gotta say something kid."

"Where do you want me to meet you?"

"ARTI's already got a location. You just need to be there."

"Then I'll see you soon." I reply and hang up. ARTI kept talking in my ear, but I can't bring myself to listen. Everything is muddled and painfully sharp at the same time. The world feels to bright, and the darkness I normally crave is completely absent.

I just head back to the car that ARTI still has control over and collapse inside. The black whole in my chest that I thought I had almost entirely closed is wide open again. It pulls everything in until there's nothing left but the pain, anger, and destruction it—and I by extension—leave in my wake.

It feels like my worst nightmare has reawaken and clawed its way into reality. Everyone I love get hurt. Everything I touch is left with a brush of darkness, which seems to only end in death. I always thought people like Dad, Nat, and Peter would be exempt. They were heroes—Avengers—and had seen far more dangerous things than whatever seems to follow me around.

The car comes to a stop outside of the city limits, where the unmarked Stark jet sits in an empty development lot. I move on autopilot as I leave the car and walk right past Happy into the jet. All I can focus on is the alert on my lenses that Beck used EDITH to re-route the class trip through London. 

It's going to be the sight of his final 'battle' against the fake elementals, and he's going to kill my friends to cover his tracks. Sadly for him, he's not gonna get anything but a headstone with his name on it. Because I'm going to do more than just ruin him and his plans.

I want Quentin Beck to pay for everything he's done—even if it kills me. But right now, it feels as if the latter already happened. Peter's one of the few items on a very short list of things to keep fighting for.

With him—with him gone, I don't know if I can so much as stand—much less keep swinging. It's like losing Dad all over again, except now, I have the pain that was already there dragging me farther and farther down into my own suffering and grief.

The only glimmer of light is the mental image of Morgan and Mum. How heartbroken they looked the night I left, and how much worse it would be if I didn't keep my promise and make it back to them. We've all lost so much. I can't let myself be added to that list.

I have to keep going—keep my promises—keep fighting even though the odds feel a billion to one. I have to do it for Mum, for Morgan, and most importantly—for Peter.

A/N: Hey, guys! So, I wrote a short story for a writing competition, and I’m really proud of how it turned out (especially considering there was a 1,000 word limit). Anyway, it would really mean a lot of me if you checked it out! Here’s the link to it if you wanna read it: [The Reaper’s Eye](https://www.getunderlined.com/writings/the-reapers-eye/)


	9. Chapter 7

"Get me to London." I snap the moment the plan door closes.

"Why? So you can commit murder?" Happy questions with the same disappointed tone he used when he had to tell me something happened with Dad—from work delays, to injuries, and cancelled plans. That sadness coated virtually every heartache and disappoint I've known. "You're better than this, kid. You're not a killer."

"Maybe not, but he deserves to die for what he's done—to Dad's legacy, to the public, to twisting my family story for his own gain, to-to what he did to Peter."

"And when did you start getting to make calls on who deserves to die?" He crosses his arms, trying to look intimidating—as if I haven't seen him in a kiss the chef apron making waffles a hundred times. "You've already got enough against you; and this will only make it worse. It won't fix what happened."

"It will make me feel better knowing that he doesn't get to live while someone who deserves everything good and beautiful in life, someone who loved even the most broken person, who actually loved me not just in spite of—but because of—all the things I've done, while Peter doesn't."

"You and I both know it's not what he would want. It's not what Nat or Tony would want."

"Yeah, but they're all gone, Happy. I've lost nearly every good thing in my life, and I refuse to let him walk away unpunished." I pause and take a trembling breath. "Do you remember why Dad named the team 'the Avengers?' It was because he knew that we can't always save the world—or the people we love—maybe sometimes we can't even save ourselves, but we will always avenge what was lost. So take me to London and step aside. Let me avenge the damage Beck has done to people, to Dad's legacy. Let me kill him for what he did to Peter."

"You know I can't. I made a promise to—" Happy's voice is drown out by the screeching of his default ringtone. I can see the hesitation written on his face as he tries to decide whether or not to keep fighting me. But I assume he answers it for an extra second to gather his thoughts.

I turn and punch the side of the plane's interior out of pure frustration and anger. It hurts my hand as the metal interior buckles, but it makes me feel a fraction less pissed off. Every second I waste arguing with Happy is another second Beck gets a head start. But that all fades away as Happy talks, "Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, kid. Where are you?"

Everything stops.

There's only three people in the world that Happy Hogan calls 'kid,' and I highly doubt he's talking to Morgan. Happy moves towards the pilot's cabin and puts the phone on speaker. "Hi." A man with a heavy dutch accent says as I slide into the pilot's seat, following ARTI's instructions to get us ready to go. "It's Broek op Langedijk here."

"Plotting a course." ARTI tells me and pulls up the navigation guide for me. I ignore Happy's worried look as the engines start up and the plane lifts into the air.

"Thank you, sir." Happy tells the man as he buckles in and watches as I prep the jet for take-off.

"Yeah, no problem. Heh, heh." The man chuckles happily.

"Thanks," Peter's voice is soft and strained. "Did you get that?"

"Got it, kid." He pauses for a second as he stares at the side of my head. "I'm on my way."

"Okay. Th-thank you, Happy." Peter whispers before he hangs up. "I'll see you soon."

The cabin is deathly quiet aside from the rumble of the engines as we cruise through the crowds. It's the kind of quiet that rings in my ears and echoes in the still painful whole in my chest. What seems worst is how Happy's pensive look makes his thoughts blare like sirens on a quiet street.

"This doesn't absolve Beck." I reply to the unspoken question. "He still deserves everything that's coming to him. Nothing will change that."

"Not even Peter?"

"No, not even him. I saw firsthand what Beck did to him, and Peter will blame himself more than anyone. He'd say it's all his fault and take the weight of it on his shoulders. But Beck is the one to blame for everything. It should be on his head—no one else's." I sigh and grip the steering column so hard my fingers turn snow white. "So yeah, I doubt even Peter can change my mind about this. Beck is going to pay."

We circle around a large field with rows of colored tulips. All I can do is painfully watch Peter limp through the field as I land the plane. "Stay here. We're already risking enough. I can't let you be seen and get caught now."

"But,—" I try to argue, but Happy pretends not to hear as he heads down the stairs. Everything in me screams to run out there, but I know I can't. All I can do is watch from just outside the doorway.

"Peter? Are you okay?" Happy calls as he steps onto the ground.

"Happy? Is that you?" The question and terror in Peter's voice breaks my heart into innumerable pieces.

"Yeah, of course it's me."

"Stop!" Peter shouts, holding a hand out to Happy so he doesn't come any closer. "Tell me—tell me something only you would know."

"Only I would know. Uh." I watch as Peter stares at Happy in fear that this is another illusion, and the former struggles to find an answer. "Oh. Remember when we went to Germany? You pay-per-viewed a video in your room? They didn't list titles, but I could tell by the price it was an adult film at the front desk. And you didn't know how I knew, but—"

"Okay, fine! It's you. Stop." Peter grunts in pain as he limps towards Happy and pulls him into a tight hug. "It's so good to see you."

"Peter, you're gonna have to tell me what's going on here." Happy sighs and gently pulls away. "Let's get you on the jet first."

Happy closes the door separating me from Peter's view. I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming and rushing in there. Mostly because Happy's right to do so. Peter's going to need a minute before I can step in.

Their voices are muddled as Peter explains the situation, and Happy struggles to get a word in. "Peter, there's—uh—something you should know."

"I know that look. It's the one you get when I ask about—oh god—Lia. Have you heard from her? Is—is she okay? Did something happen to her? Happy, please, tell me she's okay."

He doesn't say anything, but I can hear him approach the door and swing it open. "Really, Happy? You waited this long for my big reveal after six months of not be able to contact him?" I ask the man before nervously looking to Peter. "Hey there, hot stuff."

"Lia?" Peter calls softly, and I nod.

There's a moment where hesitation flickers in his eyes. "Before you ask, yes, it's me, and I can prove it. I know you mumble in your sleep, that you love Star Wars because Ben introduced you to after your parents died, and that—that you became Spiderman because of Ben and what he told you before he died. I know that one time when May made cookies from scratch, you and I pretended that we loved them because she was so proud of herself. But then when she wasn't looking, we stole the rest of them and fed them to the pigeons on the roof, and we did that every time she made them so she never had to know how terrible they really were. I also should mention that I was the one that used to steal all your backpacks as payback for butting in on my investigation into Vulture. And that—"

Peter doesn't let me say anything else as he stumbles toward me and pulls me close to his chest. "You're here. I can't believe you're really here." He whispers as we both begin to cry. "I knew it was you, by the way. You didn't need to tell me all that stuff."

"How? After everything that happened with Beck, how did you know for sure it was me?" I grip onto him tighter.

"Beck doesn't know about you, and I just—I just knew." Peter whispers against my neck. "Please, don't leave me like that again."

"I won't. Not if I can help it." I reply and pull back, fingers brushing against his bruised face. That is, until I remember the way he looked at MJ, and the thought he's probably moved on, which pushes me back a step. "We really need to get you cleaned up."

Happy's already on it as he has the first aid laid out, sutures ready to go, and reading glasses in hand. "Sit down, kid." Peter hesitates to move his arms from around my waist.

"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere." I reassure him as I guide him to sit down and hold his hand to reassure him. Peter's hand grips tightly onto my own as the other lifts his shirt to reveal a myriad of scrapes and bruises from the train hitting him.

It's quiet aside from Peter hissing in pain as Happy cleans and stitches Peter's wounds. "Okay, hold still." Happy reminds Peter once he starts to fidget. "There we go."

"Hey," I whisper, fingers tracing the cuts on his face, "focus on me, okay?"

"Ouch." Peter grimaces as he avoids meeting my eye and pulls his hand away from mine.

"I thought you had super strength." Happy comments, and I shoot him a glare.

"It still hurts." Peter's face twists in pain, his hand lets go of mine as the frustration grows on his face. "Happy, come on."

"All right, relax. Just a few more. There we go."

I want to reach for Peter's hand again, but it's clearly written on his face that now's not the time. Everything that he's gone through seems to building, and judging by the look on his face, he's about to snap any second now. "Oh my god."

"Relax." Happy tells him. I hold in a sigh as Peter pounds his fist agains the table. And there goes the camel's back.

"Don't tell me to relax, Happy! How can I relax when I messed up so bad?" His gaze turns to me, eyes filled to the brim with pain. "How can you even look at me right now?"

"Because it's not your fault."

"How? I trusted Beck. Right? I thought he was my friend. So I gave him the only thing Mr. Stark—the only thing your Dad—left behind for me, and now he's gonna kill our friends and half of Europe. Tell me how that's not my fault!" He pauses, pulling at his hair as he collapses into a chair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't shout."

"You have every right to be angry, Pete, but you should know, Beck's a master manipulator and a complete psychopath." I tell him and stare at my hands. "Trust me when I say this was pretty much inevitable. He's had it out for my Dad since he before he got fired. It's not your fault you're the only person with a known connection to my Dad. I'm sure if he knew about me, I'd have been in your shoes."

"That doesn't make me feel any better." He replies and looks at me. "I just really miss him—and you."

"Yeah, I miss him too." I look back to Happy, who nods somberly in agreement. "We all do."

"Everywhere I go," Peter's lip quivers as he shakes his head, "I see his face, and the whole world is asking who's gonna be the next Iron Man. I—I don't know if that's me. I'm not Iron Man."

"You're not Iron Man. Neither of you." Happy tells us. "You're never gonna be Iron Man."

"Nice start to a pep talk, Happy."

"I wasn't finished, Lia. Nobody could live up to Tony. Not even Tony." He pauses and looks at me with a sad smile that I know all too well. "Tony was my best friend, and he was a mess. He second-guessed almost everything he did. He was all over the place. The only things that he didn't second-guess was being your Dad and picking you."

I look to Peter with a reassuring smile. It was pretty obvious Dad cared as much form as he did me, and I know that Happy's right—Dad never doubted that Peter was always meant to a hero—to be part of the crazy little team we call our family.

"I don't think he would have done what he did, if he didn't know that you two were gonna be here after he was gone." Happy pauses for a second, "Now, your friends are in trouble, you're all alone, your tech is missing. What are you gonna do?"

"He's not alone, Happy." I whisper and look at Peter. "You've got me by your side for whatever you decide to do next."

Peter nods and pushes to his feet. "How about we kick his ass?"

"And here I thought you'd never ask." I grin at Peter, "I've already got a playlist designed specifically for Beck's soon to be sore, sorry butt."

"Sorry to interrupt, but I mean, right now. Specifically what are we gonna do? 'Cause we've been hovering over a tulip field for the past fifteen minutes."

"Way to ruin the moment, Happy." I sigh and shake my head.

"Right. Um. I can't call my friends because he's tracking their phones." Peter thinks for a moment before turning to Happy. "Give me your phone."

"My cell phone?"

"Nah, I think he wants the landline you carry around." I tease, much to both Happy and Peter's annoyance. "Please, you both missed me and my witty banter."

A smirk tugs at Peter's lips as he takes Happy's phone. "What's your password."

"Password."

"No, what is your password?"

"Password, spelled out." Happy replies.

"You're the head of security and your password is 'password.'" 

"Trust me, I've tried to get him to change it a million times, but he never listens." I answer with a shrug. "What're you doing?"

My answer comes in a livestream from Flash, where he speaks with a nightmarishly bad British accent. "Hello, governor. Cup of tea?"

"Seriously? We went to school together for over two years and that's what he thinks a Brit sounds like?"

"It's Flash. Did you really expect more?" Peter retorts before turning to Happy. "They're in London."

"London, okay."

"Yeah, I need a suit."

"I got it covered." I interject and hit a button that opens the panel in the back of the plane. "It's a little something Dad installed when he got the jet. Just—" I gently grab Peter's wrist, ignoring the spark it sends through me as I use my free hand on the other pad, "—put your hand here." The machine hums to live, and I grin as Peter takes it all in. "Pull up all the specs for Spiderman and Phantom."

One of the fabrication tanks lights up with the variety of suits Dad and I created over the years, along with a few more Dad must have made during the Blip. I turn around to the other and try to fight a smile as Peter jumps headfirst into the specs of his new suit.

"Yeah, open that. Okay, no, no, no." Peter mumbles, and it makes my body relax a little. I've spent six months looking over my shoulder, constantly panicking and expecting the worst, and most of all—missing the simple things like Peter talking to himself as he works. I look over at Happy to see him smiling contently at the sight of us.

It's only as he turns around to show me something that he notices both of our looks. "What?"

"Nothing." Happy replies for the both of us. "You two take care of your suits, I'll take care of the music."

"Don't let me down, Happy." I call as I flip through the options of for my suit. Unfortunately, six months of tracking down scientists, saving test subjects, and ruining every plan the REM Trials comes up with is pretty rough on a suit without being able to repair it.

Back in Black blares across the jet's speakers, and I grin at Happy as it plays. Dad always used to play this and all the classic rock he loved when we were working together in the lab. Peter grins, "Oh, I love Led Zeppelin."

I have to bight back a laugh at it, and thankfully Peter doesn't notice. We just keep moving in perfect sync, helping each other pick and craft the upgrades of our suits. It's like nothing's changed. "That's one of my favorites." I comment when I catch a glimpse of the base design he's using. "It really makes your butt look cute."

Peter blushes at the comment and shakes his head. "Why do you always compliment my butt?"

"Because, it makes you blush, which is insanely adorable, by the way." I shrug and smile at him. "What are you working on?"

"Trying to get my taser webs to carry enough voltage to take down the drones."

"Increasing it by twenty five percent should do." I reply and show him the new read outs. "The drones are meant to last for a long time between charges, but if you put too much power behind the punch, it's not gonna end well."

"Okay. I'll increase it by twenty five percent and have complete manual control over detonation."

"Sounds like a plan." I move to go back to working on my suit, but Peter's hand catches my wrist. "What?"

"I really missed this, you know. Us—working together." He stops for a second and looks down at his hand on my wrist. "I get why you had to leave, but—but is it over? Can you come back when we finish this?"

Every ounce of comfort and happiness I had built up seems to go crashing down to the ground. "I wish I could, but I can't. The people in charge of the trials are getting more powerful every day. Pete, if I go home and anyone knows, they'll—they'll kill you and everyone close to us just for a shot at me. I can't risk that."

"Then let me help. I can protect you."

"Not from the Reaper you can't." I sigh and hold back tears as Peter's expression drops. "I'm sorry, but it's a long story. Maybe I can explain when we stop Beck."

"I'm holding you too that." Peter whispers as his fingers brush against mine. "Just don't run off like that again, okay?"

"Trust me, I don't think I could handle leaving like that again." I pause and lean into him for a long minute. "I really missed you, Pete, and as much as this sucks, I'm glad it brought us back together."

"Me too." He whispers as he presses his forehead to mine. "Me too."

I close my eyes and save this moment in the back of my head for when I'll inevitably have to leave him again. All I want is to hold onto this forever—to be right here, just like this with Peter for as long as I possibly can.

It breaks my heart knowing that it's only a matter of time.


	10. Chapter 8

“So,” Peter asks as we finish the details of our upgrades suits. His eyes keep trailing down to the guns and the compacted batons on the belt of my current suit, “you carry guns now?”

I don’t meet his eyes as I make sure my wrist tasers are properly secured. “They’re just for emergencies.”

“They’re Nat’s aren’t they?” He asks, but it sounds more like a statement than a question. I nod and offer him a sad smile. “I didn’t know you had them, but I’m glad. You two always seemed close.”

“She was like an older sister or another mom where mine failed.” I tell him and brush my fingers against the guns for reassurance. “Clint—um—he gave them to me after the memorial we had for her. He said Nat—“ I have to bite back the tears as I remember when he gave them to me the same day of Dad’s funeral, “he said she wanted me to have them and that she loved me.” Tears stream down my cheeks, and I hastily brush them off. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You never have to with me.” Peter’s hand finds mine. “I’m always here for you, and I know how much you lost during the Blip.”

I sniffle and look at Peter, “You know, she taught me how to shoot, fight without powers, hide in plain sight, and everything I’ve had to use these past few months. I found it’s easier to stay undetected when you’re using guns than trademarked powers.”

“You shouldn’t have had to do any of that stuff.” A sigh escapes him as his thumb brushes over my knuckles. “At least not alone.”

“I wouldn’t have come with me if you tried.” I suddenly remember MJ and the way he looked at her. Shame rises up in my throat as I pull my hand from his and continue speaking. “There’s too much that you would have missed. You needed to be with our friends and May, and they needed you with them more than I did.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can, because I do.” I avoid looking at him, “I gave up a lot when I left. You were better off staying—having a senior year, hanging out with our friends. It’s better than running from someone who you don’t even know their names or faces. Better than constantly looking over your shoulder and rarely sleeping because you don’t know if or when they’ll find you. So yeah, I’m pretty sure I know that you were better back home where I knew you’d be safer.”

“That didn’t mean it was much better.” The ways he says it makes my heart ache. I wish he could understand why I did what I did. I doubt he can unless he went through it too, but it’s something I’d never want another person to feel.

“I hate to interrupt, but the order has been made for the drones to launch.” ARTI says loud enough for us to hear it. “Beck also seems to be targeting Fury and Hill.”

“Figures. Happy, call Fury and give him a warning. They’re the only people who could prove he’s a fraud, which makes them loose ends to be trimmed.” I sigh and tap my foot.

“How am I supposed to do that? Beck’s listening, right?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” I reply and try to ignore the anxiety rolling through my stomach. “ARTI, have the override program ready to go. If it comes down to it, you need to be ready at a moment’s notice.”

“Override program?” Peter asks, clearly trying to figure it out. “You have access to EDITH too?”

“Yeah, I do, but since you transferred control, I can’t access her or counter another primary user’s commands without causing a shift in the system. Which also means, if Beck’s teams are paying attention, they’re bound to notice and backtrace it.”

“Which means they could potentially figure out your location and identity.” Peter nods and sighs, “That makes sense then.”

“I regret to inform you that a kill order has been issued for three of your friends.” ARTI informs us, and I clench my fists.

I look at Peter, hating what I’m about to do, but he grabs my hand. “Don’t, not yet.”

“Are you crazy? They could get killed, Pete!”

“Not if we split up. You can go protect them while I take care of Beck.”

“No. No! I’m not letting you go in there alone.” I level a glare at him and cross my arms. “Or are you forgetting that I’m the only one who can see through his illusion? Plus, I wanna get some of my own swings in. He used my family’s history for his own gain; my grandparent’s life is being twisted to suit a psychopath, who is hellbent on destroying my Dad’s legacy and killing you. I need to take him down as much as you. So let me put in the override commands, stop this insanity, and make sure Beck never even thinks about doing this again.”

“Lia,” Peter sighs and wraps me tightly against his chest. It’s only now that I realize I’m trembling in anger, “I need to keep you and our friends safe. _Please_.”

“Not if it means we risk you getting hurt.” I reply, and Peter shakes his head. “You really want me to let you face the guy who manipulated and got you hit by a train alone?”

“Yes, I am.” He pauses for a moment and looks me dead in the eye as he says, “It’s what they would have done.”

“That was low, Parker.” My jaw tightens as I look away from him. “Fine, but the second their safe, I’m coming to personally hand Beck his own ass.”

“I won’t stop you.”

Happy comes rushing back to us, “Okay. Fury’s got the coded message. Your friends are at the Tower Bridge. You’re boy called it London Bridge, but I figured it out.”

“Did he seriously learn nothing from me?” I shake my head and share a worried look with Peter.

“I’m gonna go scoop them up. Okay? We’re close.”

“We’re close.” Peter repeats, and I can tell he’s trying to reassure himself.

“How are the suits coming?” He asks as he looks between the two chambers.

“They’re almost done.” I reply and work on the last few details to my suit that will help with stay undetected by cameras—drone and otherwise. It takes me a second to realize Happy and Peter are in the pilot’s cabin talking quietly. I push it aside and focus on the suits finishing construction.

Well, until Happy speaks loud enough for me to hear, “Oh! You mean the Peter-tingle. That’s what you meant, right?”

“The Peter-tingle?” I ask through the laughter involuntarily bubbling out of me. “Wait, wait. Let me guess, it’s how May refers to your Spidey-sense?”

“It’s not working though. I heard it wasn’t working now. Isn’t it?”

I look at Peter, knowing with an almost certainty why it stopped. His grief made him question everything and doubt himself and abilities. Of course, Peter won’t say that. “It is working. I don’t know if it’s working.”

“Well, you have it, and you need to use it.” I remind him, “And once our friends are safe, I’ll have your back.”

“That’s the plan.” Happy agrees. “We’re gonna go get your friends. You get the Peter-tingle back online.”

“I got this. I got this.” Peter repeats to himself before he looks at me. “Scratch that. We’ve got this.”

“We better. Otherwise, this is really gonna suck.”

The second the suits finish, Peter and I slip them on. I slide my holsters on, check my ammo and baton charge, and raise my mask. “Alright, I’m gonna open up the door for you, Pete.” Happy calls from the pilot’s seat.

I grab Peter’s hand before he can make a step. “Be careful and make it back. Okay?”

“I promise.” He smiles and pulls me in a tight hug. “I’ll always come back.”

“I’m holding you to that.” I whisper as he leaves to attach himself to the side of the plane, and I take the co-pilot seat. “All right. Comms check, can you hear us?”

“Yeah, I can.” Peter’s voice calls over the roar of the wind. “It’s a little loud out here.

“I like the new suit.”

“Agreed. It makes your butt look cute.” I call, which makes Happy give me a disapproving look for ‘ruining’ his compliment. “What? It does.”

“Thanks.”

Happy looks back out the window, and I follow his gaze to see the ‘storm’ in the distance. “Whoa, you sure that’s not real?” he says as he looks from me to Peter outside his window.

“Yeah, it’s just a hundred times bigger than I expected.”

“He’s got EDITH’s drones now too. So he’s working with a whole lot more.” I bite my lip, glad that they can’t see it. “We sticking to the plan?”

“Yeah. We just need to get high enough so Beck doesn’t see me coming.”

Happy start to raise the plane, “Stay sticky, kid.”

“Hey, Happy.” Peter calls, “We need to have a serious conversation about you and my aun—“

He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as he comes loose from the plane. I look over at Happy and raise a brow. “You and May, huh?”

“Can we not talk about this now?”

“We can, but we won’t. It helps distract me.” I reply and try to look for Peter in the chaos of drones below. “Don’t tell Pete, but I think you’d be cute together.”

“Shouldn’t you be focused on finding your friends instead of my relationship?”

“At least you admit it’s a relationship.” I tease as I look to the livestream Flash _still_ has going. You’ve gotta at least give him props for his dedication. He screams about how there were drones in the monster, which makes me smile knowing Peter got the first part of his plan done. “I got him. Dead ahead.”

The moment we land, I rush out of the plan. “Ned!” I shout over the screams of terrified tourists and locals as they run away.

“L—Phantom?!” He shouts, almost shouting my real name.

“We gotta get you out of here.” Happy shouts as he corrals our friends. “Get on the jet.”

“Who are you?” MJ asks as she stares at Happy. “Hey, Phantom.”

“Don’t worry, you can trust him. He works with Spiderman and I.”

“You work for Spiderman and Phantom?” Flash shouts in awe as he looks between us.

“With them! Not _for_ them.” Happy retorts, and I nudge him to remind him now is _not_ the time.

Of course, the missiles that blow up the jet pretty much do it for me. “New plan! Everyone, head into the tower.” I shout and push them inside. After all, it’s the most secure place in London.

“Lia? Happy? Are you okay?”

“We’ll be fine. Just focus on stopping Beck; I’m pretty sure he’s unraveling.” An alert pops up across my lenses. “Fair warning, he’s targeting you.”

“Thanks for the heads up!”

“Okay, get into the vault!” Happy shouts as we run past Queen’s guards shooting down drones. “The walls are eight feet thick. Go into the vault!”

We only make it to the room right before the vault before the bullets start. I grab MJ’s arm and pull her further towards cover an instant before she gets hit. She looks at me, eyes wide and chest heaving. All I can do is place a finger to the lower half of my mask.

I can hear the drone whirring and searching for us. My assumption is that Beck took manual control. The psycho probably wants to kill us himself. Not that I’ll give him a chance, but he’s still gonna try.

MJ taps my arm to get my attention and motions toward an old mace. A smile grows on my lips as I nod and take it. After all, these drones were designed to hold up to more than bullets, and I can’t use the baton for risk of it blowing up or wasting a charge trying to take it down. Not to mention, if I don’t use my powers, whoever is watching is likely to assume I’m one of the decoys or copycats that’s been popping up around the globe.

Yeah, I think the mace will do perfectly.

Happy catches my eye as I slowly reach for it, and I catch him mouthing, “No. No!”

Sorry, Happy, but this is our best shot. The armor creaks a little as I pull the mace free. I can see Happy and MJ both tense in panic when my hand nearly slips from the weight. For once, I’m actually thankful for all the weight training I’ve done.

The drones guns whirr in preparation, and I position myself in front of MJ, mace in hand. It doesn’t immediately target us though. Ned and Betty seemed to catch on and pushed over a suit of armor, which the drone promptly releases a hail of bullets at.

I take a breath, heave up the mace and bring it down on the drone with every ounce of strength in me. “Go!” I shout to everyone and walk backwards to protect them as they run into the vault. Happy tugs on my arm as he passes and pushes me into the vault.

Despite the danger of the situation, I almost find myself letting out a chuckle as Happy tosses a heavy metal shield that lands short of the drone while he closes the vault’s door. “How does Cap do that?” He asks me.

“I’d imagine the vibranium shield and being a super soldier help him out.” I reply and do a head count. “Anyone hurt?”

A chorus of ‘no’s come in reply, and it’s easy to feel the panic still radiating off of everyone. There’s a faint buzzing sound from the other side of the door, and I use my shadows to see the drone using a laser to start cutting through the metal. “What’s going on?” MJ asks.

“He’s using the lasers.” I reply and glance at Happy. “We’ve got some time, but not much.”

All of the sudden, Peter’s voice crackles through the comms. “Happy, Lia? Please, say something. Let me know you’re alive.”

“We’re here.” I whisper back, not even realizing until just now how much I needed to hear his voice to help me focus.

“Everyone’s fine. I bought us some time, but it’s not gonna last.” Happy adds.

“I’m trying to get to Beck, but I can’t shake these drones!”

“Don’t worry about us. I’ll keep everyone over here safe; just focus on doing the same for yourself. We’ve got to keep our promise.” I stop as the light of the laser starts to peek through. The sounds of explosions and the fight on Peter’s end.

“Are we gonna die?” Ned questions, and I can see the terror of the situation bringing tears to his eyes as looks between Happy and I.

“Nobody dies on my watch.” Happy replies.

A energy pulse pounds against the door, and I can feel the worry of what might happen. It sends an ache through my chest. These are my friends; people who got caught up in a psychopath’s twisted narrative.

“I’ve wasted my life playing video games, and we’re gonna die.”

Another pulse. Betty takes her turn to make a confession. “I have a fake ID, and I’ve never even used it.”

“I post stupid videos daily for people to like me.” Flash cries as the pulses come faster.

“Hey, if it wasn’t for those stupid videos, they would have never found you.”

“Spiderman—Spiderman and Phantom follow me? I saved us, guys.”

“If you saved us, then why are we about to die?” MJ snaps.

“You’re not gonna die! Just stay behind me.” I shout and adjust my grip on the mace. There’s a twisting in my gut. It’s obvious to me what I have to do, which is protect them. I’ll do everything to make it through this, but I would never forgive myself if they got hurt.

Of course, everyone bursts into an argument. “Stop it!” Happy shouts until they’re quiet.

“I’m sorry, okay?” MJ shouts with the panic clearly ringing in her voice. “I’m obsessed with telling the truth even if it hurts other people’s feelings.”

“I’m in love with Spiderman’s aunt.” He blurts out, eyes immediately widening in realization of what he said and face flushing with embarrassment.

“It’s okay, Hap. If it’s any consolation, I’m in love with Spiderman.” I whisper too caught up in the moment to realize I just admitted that out loud for the first time since I said it on Titan. Even after the Blip, I couldn’t bring myself to say it; instead, I tried and probably failed to show him. It’s only now that I realize how much I wanted to admit it all over again. “I love him.”

The others all turn to me, most with slack jaws or excited smiles. Except, only three of them know who I am. Flash and Betty still don’t know it’s Peter beneath the mask. But now they know my biggest secret. “What?” Happy asks, unsure of why they’re all looking so happy and confused. “We’re sharing, right?”

With one last pulse, a large chunk of the door’s fall in. “Everyone down!” I shout and lift my free hand, ready to release the building energy at a moment’s notice.

Except, Peter does it. Or at least, I assume he does because the drones stop where they are, and a moment later, an alert comes across my lenses that Peter is back in the system and sending the drones back. They spin around and fly out—likely heading to their little homes in the Stark satellite.

“Give me the spear.” Happy says to Betty as he takes the ancient weapon from him.

“Actually, it’s a halberd.” Ned and I correct Happy at the same time.

We cautiously exit the vault, and I can’t shake the worry that maybe they’ll come back. Once it’s clear they aren’t, I turn to Happy. “Can you take care of them? I have to go help him.”

“Yeah, I can handle this.” He nods, and I turn around before I hear him shout. “Wait, I—um—I was asked to give you this.”

I watch Happy in confusion as he digs into his lapel pocket. It all fades as he pulls out a broken, glass necklace. My hands shake as I take it and realize where it came from—the little glass shop in Venice.

Tears brim in my eyes as all the realization comes crashing in on me. Peter—Peter wasn’t buying a gift for MJ. He got it for me. Even more important, it’s a star, which was always important for us—we would always stargaze after patrols or when one of us was sad. He would drag me out every night after Dad died just to cheer me up a little.

It means that he didn’t give up—didn’t move on.

I look up at Happy, as I stow the necklace away in one of my pouches to keep it from breaking further. “I thought he had—oh god. I’ve been so stupid.”

“He didn’t, kid. Never even considered it.” Happy grins at me and nods towards the doors. “Now go.”

As I pull open the door, I hear Flash practically squealing, “Oh my gosh. My ship is sailing. Phidey is actually real!”

I can’t fight the smile that pushes through the worry. All I can think about is getting to Peter—making sure he’s okay, and for a second, I almost entirely forget about Beck.

ARTI pulls up Peter’s location, and I push myself to a full sprint to get to him. The moment I catch sight of him limping through the destroyed cars, I feel a swell of happiness and renewed energy to run even faster towards him. “Lia.” He calls, and I run right into his arms, the mace slipping from my hands to the concrete.

“Are you okay? Please, tell me you’re okay.” I cry as I grip onto his shoulders like a life raft.

“I’m okay. Are you?”

“I definitely am now.” I sigh into his neck. “Everyone else is okay.”

He lets out a heavy sigh of relief. “What happened?”

“We locked ourselves in the crown jewel vault. The drones had just cut through when you sent them back.” I nestle into Peter’s neck for a moment longer before pulling away. “Did you get him?”

“Yeah.” He nods somberly.

“Well, I still owe him his own ass. Even brought a mace to help.”

“Nice.” Peter laughs as we look over each other.

“Also—um—before I left, Happy stopped me.” I say as I pull the necklace from my belt. “He gave me this.”

“No, no.” Peter cries as his hands cup mine to see the broken necklace. “Oh, Lia, I’m—I’m so sorry. I had this stupid plan.”

“Pete,” I try to interrupt, but he keeps talking.

“I wrote it all down. I was gonna buy you this necklace, look for you in all your favorite place, and convince you to—“ I cut him off my pulling him close and pressing my lips to his for a split second. “—and you kissed me. What?”

“Thing is, when I was gone, I kind of gave up hope on a lot of things.” Tears brim in my eyes and the emotion takes over my voice. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had given up, hated me, or moved on. I half expected you had, and when Happy gave me the necklace. I just—I just felt so stupid for ever doubting you and for leaving and for how I acted before I left. Truth is, I love you, Peter, and I never stopped.”

Peter smiles and lets out a small laugh. “God, I can’t tell you how it feels to hear you say that.”

“A star. For how we always—“

‘How we always would stargaze. Yeah.” He offers me a sad smile. “I’m sorry it’s broken.”

“I’m not. I kind of like it better this way.”

“Good, ‘cause in case it wasn’t obvious, I really like you.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” I tease and wrap my arms around his neck. “I like you too, hot stuff. In case you didn’t know.”

His hands find my waste as he pulls me closer. It makes my head spin as he kisses me longer and sweetly. Our foreheads rest together as both of us smile tenderly. It makes me think that maybe things don’t always end terribly. Maybe I will be able to have a bit of happiness and normalcy.

Either way, I commit myself to not wasting this moment.


	11. Chapter 9

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Peter asks as he looks up to the sky bridge where he left Beck. "It's a big risk, you know, and he's already shot."

"I need to." I reply and grip his hand. "I need him to know what he did and who he did it to. He'll spend the rest of his life paying for it, and I want to look him in the eyes as he realizes he lost more than he knew."

I focus on the shadows under our feet and push us into the air where a familiar SHIELD agent watches over a few agents putting handcuffs on Beck. "Give her a minute." He tells them, and they disperse.

"Well, well, well. It looks like the elusive Phantom emerged to help catch me." He grins wickedly. "I've heard some people are looking for you. They're even offering a pretty penny for information."

"Too bad you won't be able to collect then, huh?" I question and retract the lower part of my mask. "You know, I've been thinking about all the ways to make you pay for what you did."

"So you must be the special girl Peter was telling me about."

"That's part of it." I crouch down to his level and grin. "Let's just say I have lots of personal reasons to wanna see you hurt."

"Oh really, why's that?"

"I'd rather make you feel the damage you've done. You stole my family's story, hurt someone I love, and tried to taint the memory of Tony Stark."

"Tony Stark was a weak, pathetic man who hid behind his suits and money."

I use the shadows in his body to squeeze his heart at that comment. "No, he really wasn't. He wasn't perfect, but he cared about people. He was caring, smart, and encouraging. I'm not saying he was perfect, but he's an infinitely better man than you could ever dream of being."

"Oh yeah?" Beck questions with gritted teeth, and I feel Peter step forward to protect me. "How would you know anything about him?"

"You don't have to do this." Peter whispers as he puts a hand on my shoulder.

"It's okay." I turn from him and lean closer, "I know because I'm his daughter." Realization dawns on Beck's face, twisted in the painful realization that he lost a prime chance. I increase the pressure against his heart. "You should thought twice before you went after my Dad's good name—before you went after Peter."

Peter's hand finds mine, and he holds them together to get me to release the pressure in Beck's chest. Once it does, he begins gasping and sputtering for breath, a trail of dribble running down his chin. I stare at him, venom lacing my voice as I calmly tell him. "Remember, Quentin. I know who you are and where you're going. So next time you even think about finishing your little vendetta, I'll finish what I just started."

I stand to my feet and offer Beck one last devilish smile as we leave. Except, the moment we're far enough away, all my energy dissipates. There's nothing left after the rage and bitterness that's been overtaking me, and I wonder if I would feel better to have put Beck down for good.

It fades into static as Peter wraps his arms around me and lets me cry. I hold him impossibly close and just let myself feel everything that's been bottled up for so long. All the while, Peter just calms me down as he himself starts to break down.

"I'm so sorry." I cry against him. "None of this should have happened to you."

"It shouldn't have happened at all, but it did." Peter tells me, and I just relish in being back in his arms.

We stay like that for a long moment. Neither of us are willing to break away for fear of losing the other entirely all over again. It's only right now that I come to the realization—and decision—that if Peter were to ask me to come back with him again, I'd agree.

For now, he seems content not broaching the subject. He just pulls alway slightly and takes my hand as we head out to find Happy. When we finally catch up with him, he practically beams as he sees our intertwined hands. "I'm happy to see you two worked things out."

"I am too." I whisper and lean against Peter."

"Before I forget, Peter, May called. I told her you were fine, and that I'd make sure you'd get home safely." Happy pauses to offer me a questioning look. "Is there anywhere specific you want me to drop you off?"

"Actually, can we have a minute, Happy?" Peter asks and turns to me. "Look, I know things are still dangerous for you, and that you don't want to come back and put everyone at risk, but hear me out. I will do whatever it takes to keep you home and help you with this. We can find you a safe place to live and keep you hidden while we continue looking. I just—I don't want to go through what we did the last six months again. So name what it will take for you to come back with me, and I'll do everything I can to make it happen."

"Okay." I whisper back.

"Wait," he pauses, eyes tracing my features for any sign of a lie or joking, "really?"

"Yeah," I breathe out and feel the tension and weight of the past six months dissolve for a second. "But I can't promise it will be for easy or even for very long. I'll have to find a place to hide out and take a lot of precautionary measures—"

"Hey," He whispers, "I meant what I said, I'll do whatever it takes. We can go home and work together to finally get to the bottom of this."

"I wish it was that simple, but I'm willing to try. Just know that at the first sign of trouble, I will leave. There's no way I'll risk the Reaper coming after you because they want my head." I collapse into a chair with a sigh. "I've seen what they do firsthand, and it would kill me if anything like that happened to you or anyone else."

"Can I ask?" Peter asks softly as he sits next to me, and I lean into him. "Do you wanna talk about it—you know, everything that's happened?"

"Not everything." I reply and shake off all the bad memories I've desperately tried to put behind me. "Still, I'll tell you what I can." The next few hours are spent with Peter and I nestled against each other. He stays quiet throughout the whole thing; his hand reaches to find mine whenever I start getting close to crying. That mostly happens when I talk about everything I've seen—from the data collected to the methods they used to get it.

"Oh my god. I—I had no idea." I can feel his tears hitting my shoulder as he pulls me impossibly closer. "I promise though, you're safe now, and we're gonna stop whoever is behind this. Okay?"

"Okay, but we have to make it through the Reaper first."

"And the Reaper is?"

"A group of people with talents. Most of them are assassins or hackers, but each of them serves one purpose—to make sure you have nothing to live or fight for when they come for you. Hiring them costs insane amounts of money and a dark web contact or two, which means whoever is behind the Trials realized I was after them and gave my name to the Reaper. It's why I ran when I did. Claire called me when she found out, and by the next morning, I was branded an international terrorist.

"It's why I couldn't contact you or anyone. I only gave Happy a burner phone that I could call in case of serious emergency. There's no way to tell who is part of the Reaper, and they're good at what they do. So I kept going until—until ARTI told me you were going to be in Venice, that is. I missed you too much not to."

"I'm glad you did." He whispers with a soft grin as his fingers play with my hair. It almost makes me laugh when his eyes keep shifting down to it, and finally, he asks, "So what happened to your hair? Why did you cut it short?"

That's when I let out an actual laugh despite the stressful reasons it happened. "I figured you were gonna ask eventually. I—uh—I singed my hair taking down a base in Siberia of all places, and I had a bit of a panic attack after that and cut my hair. I kept it short after that. It reminded me of Nat."

"It looks good on you."

I shake my head at him with a mock glare. "Your turn, I wanna hear everything I missed."

We end up talking for hours, about everything from Mr. Harrington's awkward stories to how everyone learned to cope with the affect of the Blip. The entire time, I realize this is the first time I've felt relaxed—felt safe since I got the phone call from Claire six months ago. I actually feel like I don't have to think about who could be watching and waiting.

Peter seems to notice my eyes drifting close. So he finds one of the blankets tucked away, drapes it over us, and puts on a movie. It makes me wonder how much more I've missed while I was gone. Peter was the obvious—right next to sleepovers and sneaking juice pops with Morgan, reminiscing and talking over projects with Mum, and learning more about my Dad from Happy and Rhodey.

It's silly, but that's all I want. I don't care if I'm only seventeen. I know what I want in life—and who I want to be there to share it with. It would be a blatant lie if I said I thought Peter was't it for me, and judging from the vague letter my grandpa left for me, I'm right.

I adjust my head on his chest so I can hear his heartbeat falling in rhythm with mine. Peter's free hand reaches for mine, which brings a smile to my face as the exhaustion weights on my eyelids, and all I can think is, "yeah. I want Peter Parker to be part of my forever."


	12. Chapter 10

"Are you sure you about this?" Peter questions, and I can see the apprehension written across his face in a hundred different ways. "There has to be a way for you to come with us."

"It's too risky." I remind him. "The safest option is for you to meet up and go home with May, while I shadow step to your apartment. If it helps, I'll wait until you text Happy you got there so you can catch me when I pass out."

"Way to be comforting, Lia."

"I'm just being honest. Traveling a long distance in a split second by creating a bridge of dark energy is literally exhausting, but it's the only way that I can't be traced back to you." I take a step closer and cup his face in my hands. "I promise, it's perfectly safe."

"I know. I just don't want to leave you again—or, you know—"

I cut him off with a soft smile, "I'm not leaving again. Not without giving you a proper goodbye."

Peter let's out a sigh of relief. "It doesn't stop me from worrying." Happy calls that Aunt May is here, and a soft grin tugs at Peter's lips. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Without a doubt." I whisper and give him a quick kiss. "Now go say hi to May before she has a heart attack from worrying." I can see the hesitation on his face as he takes a step back and heads out.

I watch through the tinted window as Peter and May hug. It's nice to see both of them so happy, but it doesn't make me any less anxious about breaking the news to May. Luckily, Peter said he'd try to break it to her as easily as possible. I just still have my doubts about how easily she'll handle my spontaneous return.

Six months can feel like an eternity—which it has, but it makes the hour of waiting for them to battle the traffic back to their apartment feel like a little less than it is. Luckily, a lot of that time is taken up by Happy flying the jet back to the Stark hanger.

"You know, I'm proud of you, kiddo. It's taking a lot of guts to come back, and I know how much it scares you."

"It terrifies me." I whisper back. "They've been tracking me for longer than I initially realized, and after all the damage I've done to them, they want my head. I just keep thinking what will happen if they catch me."

Happy nods understandingly and nods towards the cockpit. "Trust me, we won't let anything happen to you. You've got a lot of people on your side who care about you. Whoever is behind this won't stand a chance."

"Not when I find them they won't." I reply and lean back into a seat. "So, I never got to ask. How are Mum and Morgan doing?"

"They both miss you a lot." He tells me and sits down next to me. "Morgan talks about you everyday and plays the videos you left her all the time. She even makes me take some of her in case to give to you since she doesn't quite understand it all."

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to me with a video of Morgan and Pepper pulled up. I can't stop the tears that stream down my face as I watch one after the other. "Morgan's getting tall." I whisper and try not to cry even more as I hand the phone back. "I still can't believe Dad's not here to see it all."

"None of us can." Happy replies and pulls me into his chest. "He knew what he was doing, and he knew you would be okay."

"I'm still waiting for things to hit 'okay.'"

"Give it time, kid. Even the bad stuff doesn't last forever." Happy reminds me, and I nod. It's hard to believe, but I hope with everything in me that it's true. There's no way I can keep this up forever, and I'm already running on fumes except for the small nap on the flight back from London. There's also the lingering worry that the longer I do this, the closer the Reaper gets to me any those I love.

Happy's phone pings, and I push myself to my feet. "Let me guess, Peter and May are back?"

"Yeah, and he's really nervous."

I pause mid-motion of putting my backpack on "He told you that?"

"No, but he's using a lot of emojis, which is a sure sign." Happy says it so seriously that I can't help the laughter that bubbles out of me. "What? I know what emojis are, Lia. I'm not that old."

"I never said you were." I counter and secure my backpack on. "Alright. This is where I get off. Wish me luck."

"Why? You know where you're going."

"Yeah, but a shadow step isn't an exact science." I pause and look at Happy. "Don't tell Peter that or he'll freak out even more. Plus, I'm pretty sure it will be fine."

"Pretty sure is usually what Tony would say before something blew up."

"C'mon, Happy. You know me better than that."

"Yes, I do. Enough to know that you're just like Tony in that aspect."

"Oh, would you look at that. Gotta go. See you later, Happy!" I rush the words out as I mentally bridge the gap between the plane's cabin and Peter's apartment—specially his room, right in front of his bed in case I fall. Once I feel the connection made, I step forward, pushing my atoms through the familiar energy that when traveled this quickly feels like walking in mud.

I can see Peter's room in the distance, slowly nearing like the light at the end of a dark tunnel, and by the time my foot touches the ground again, I'm there. It's only then that I remember how much energy I just used up, but Peter is there, just like he promised. His arms wrap around my waist the same moment my knees buckle under me.

"Thanks, hot stuff." I manage to slur out and use the last bit of energy in me to collapse on Peter's bed instead fo the floor. "I'm gonna take a nap now."

Peter's laugh fills the room as he pulls his blankets over my arms. "Enjoy your nap then." I hold onto his hand so he can't walk away, and I don't need to open my eyes to know the exact soft smile on his face. A moment later, he's laying down next to me. It's the combination of his fingers gently running through my hair and the melody of his heartbeat that lulls me to his sleep.

It feels like only minutes later that an alarm starts blaring me and startles me awake. Within a second I'm on my feet, shadow blade formed in my hand. My eyes dart around fully prepared for a fight with the adrenaline being pumped in my veins.

Movement outside the door catches my attention, and I press my back to the adjacent wall, ready to take down anyone that comes in. The door opens, and I swing my arm, blade in hand, before I can even register who it is.

Luckily, Peter's spider-sense kicks in, and he ducks low enough for the shadow blade to harmlessly swing above his head. "Woah," His arms pin mine at my side as the realization hits me like the train did to him in Berlin. The blade dissipates in a second as tears begin to stream down my face. "Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. You're okay. You're safe." Peter whispers hurriedly.

I want to tell him it's not okay, but my throat is too tight. My body is frozen in place, the only movement is the uncontrollable shaking. Peter's hand grab my face every so gently as he keeps reassuring me everything is fine.

"I'm sorry." I manage. "I didn't—I heard the alarm and—and—"

"You don't need to apologize, Lia." He tells me with eyes full of pain and sadness. "I'm okay, and you're still safe. That's all that really matters."

I nod, still feeling lost amidst the overwhelming numb. "What—um—what happened?"

"May was making her famous cookies and burnt them. When the alarm went off, I figured you'd panic and came to make sure you were okay."

"Which clearly I'm not."

"After everything that's happened, no one expects you to be perfectly okay." I bite my cheek and stare at the floor, which makes Peter tuck his fingers under my chin until I look at him. "Hey, stop blaming yourself."

"But I could have hurt you—or May." I shake my head. "Maybe this was a mistake."

"Don't say that. No one got hurt, and this wasn't a mistake. Okay?" He sighs when I don't answer. "I don't care what it takes, but I'm going to help you stop these people once and for all so you can come home for good without it feeling like a mistake."

I melt in his arms in relief, appreciation, and love. All I can manage to reply is a simple, "Okay." But I think he knows everything that I can't bring myself to say.

We stay like that for a little while, just silently reassuring that the other will always be there will always love them, and will always fight for them.


	13. Chapter 11

I try not to think about it, but I can't stop. My mind keeps going back to everything Beck did, trying to add it all up. The reason I can't stop is no matter how hard I try, there's still so much that doesn't make sense.

I can't understand how Beck managed to pull it off—even with a team of bitter geniuses behind him. There's the issue of funding. It must have taken at least a couple million to pull that off, and he and his whole team collectively wouldn't have been able to afford it, which means there's someone bigger behind it— providing funds and support to the vendetta and the destruction it was bound to cause.

The thought has been keeping me up at night for the past few weeks here, and I can tell it's starting to make Peter worry about me more. Not that I can blame him. But I can't stop worrying that maybe this is all happening because of the same people. If that's the case, then this web is more tangled than I could have imagined.

"Hey," Peter waves a hand in front of my face, "you okay?"

"Yeah. I was just thinking."

"About?"

"How hilarious it's gonna be when you 'talk' with Happy and May." I tease and burst into giggles at the thought of it. "When's he supposed to be here anyway?"

"Like ten minutes I think?" He shrugs as he rummages through his pile of clean clothes. "Have you seen my—"

"Suit? It's in the dryer." I lean back against the wall, "May said she threw it in with your—" I bite my lip to hold back the laughter, "your Spiderman underwear."

Peter turns a hundred shades of red at the comment. "You know she got me those as a joke for Christmas."

"I know, but it's so cute when you blush." I tell him, and Peter shakes and presses a quick kiss to my lips. "What was that for?"

"Because you always smile after I kiss you, and it's cute."

I gently smack his head with a pillow. "Go get dressed, hot stuff."

A lazy grin tugs at my lips as he walks out, suit in hand and a goofy smile on his face. It's strange to think it's been close to a month of this beautiful quiet—of being home. I want to believe this is how I can be for a while, but I can't stop waiting for the other shoe to drop any day now.

After all, how could I be so lucky that I could see Mum and Peter without risking their lives and to be able to sleep without worrying about perimeter alarms tripping or someone sneaking in to kill me. The Reaper is famed for always getting their mark, and I doubt they'd want to lose their reputation over me.

I get pulled from my thoughts by a knock on the door. There's still that split second where my heartbeat goes wild before I remember it's just Happy. I hold Peter's pillow to my chest and pause to let the adults have a moment. It's been nice to see the difference in the pair of them. There's an ease—a happiness—to the pair.

No matter how much Peter acts like it worries him, I know he's secretly happy for them. We've talked about it late at night after May's gone to sleep along with a million other things since we hardly sleep ourselves anymore. He told me how nice it is to see her like this again, and I can't disagree. I've known Happy for most of my life now, and this is the first time I've seen him so bright and well—happy.

I head out into the living room once Happy and May have had their moment. "Hey, kiddo." Happy greets as I walk in. "How you doing?"

"A little better every day, I suppose." I respond with a shrug and fiddle with the sleeves of Peter's hoodie. "How are you and everyone else doing?"

"They're doing good. Still miss you."

"That will change once this is all over." I reply and find a seat on the couch. "Peter should be ready in a minute. He got distracted like usual."

"I didn't get distracted." He argues as he joins us. "I just lost track of time."

"And that's different how?" I question with a teasing grin that makes Peter shake his head as he sits down next to me. "Oh, right. You can't blame it on me this time. Because I told you seven times, if I remember correctly, that you were gonna be late."

"Yeah, yeah." He retorts and rolls his eyes.

"So," Happy interrupts, "what did you wanna talk about?"

Peter's face quickly turns serious as he motions for Happy and May to sit down. "Well, I've been thinking. Being Spiderman has come with a lot of complications and responsibilities, which hasn't been easy. I've kept my identity pretty guarded this past couple years. I faced a lot of deception, and I'm tired of the lies. So it's time for the truth to be out there." He pauses as his face turns even more serious. "Are you dating?"

Both of them respond at the exact same time. Happy with a sigh of relief and a 'yes.' May, on the other hand, a simple shrug as she says, "Not really."

I shrink into the couch and mumble to Peter, "Well this just got a thousand times more awkward."

Happy's attention immediately snaps to her, eyes wide in panic as he asks, "What?"

"Well," May pauses, "it was a summer fling."

"Yes," Happy affirms as Peter and I look between them, "that evolves and grows like any other."

"I still don't know where it's going." She tells us with a shrug, and the pair of them keep talking to us instead of each other.

"I'm open to wherever it might lead."

"On or off—" May adds.

"To share it with people—"

"But we'll be friends no matter what." She finishes her sentence, and I nudge Peter's arm in the hopes he'll get the message to get us out of here.

"Okay, well," Peter talks over them as he grabs my hand, "we gotta go, because we've got a date."

I start tugging him out of the room since it looks like neither of them are anywhere near to finishing the awkward explanation on their 'relationship.' "Bye!" Once we're back in Peter's room, I shut the door and stare at him with wide eyes. "What just happened?"

"I'm not sure I wanna know."

"Then why did you ask in the first place?!" I question though a fit of laughter. "That was worse than when my Dad tried to give me the talk." Peter suddenly bursts into laughter. "Trust me, babe, it was not funny at the time."

"I'm sorry, I just keep trying to imagine it." He manages to collect himself after a moment and wraps his arms around my waist. "But hey, at least, this time, you had me to rescue you."

"My hero." I grin and offer him a quick kiss. "Now, can you, please, go on patrol so you won't be late bringing home food for our first official date?"

"Okay, okay. I'm going." He says but doesn't make any effort to actually move away before he leans into kiss me. "I promise I won't be late, and I'll see you later."

"You better, and stay safe. I don't wanna have to patch you up as part of the date."

"Yes, m'lady." He salutes as he pulls down his make and heads out. I watch him go with a smile and wonder how things manage to be somewhat okay despite everything. Yet, there's still that nagging in the back of my mind.

It's about an hour later that I realize why. All it takes is ARTI saying, "Lia, one of your keyword alerts is about to get a major hit."

"Pull it up." I say and feel that nagging feeling suddenly snap to the forefront of my mind.

Because ready to be splashed across the main page of the Daily Bugle is the headline, "Spiderman exposed: a villain in disguise." The article discusses a video that Mysterio made when he was 'dying' that frames Peter for the attacks across Europe and in London—worse yet, he exposes Peter's identity.

"ARTI? Send him an sos and get him home, _now_."


	14. Chapter 12

Peter comes back in a complete panic, despite not knowing the situation. I barely spare him a glance as I continue working my way into the Daily Bugle's archives to scramble their signal and buy some time. "Lia!" He calls as he rushes to me, head on a swivel looking for danger. "What's wrong? I got your 'SOS.'"

"Sit down, take a breath, and promise me you won't get mad." I hold up a finger as I finish my current line of code. ARTI's suggestions and guidance floods across my lenses as he rallies the troops to meet me in the chat.

"Fine, but you have to tell me what's wrong."

I bite my lip, setting the pieced together computer aside, "Beck had a contingency plan, which included a video that's edited to frame you for the attacks in Europe and London." Peter opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him. "That's not all. He exposed your identity and sent the video to every major news outlet worldwide."

"What?!" He screeches and pulls at his hair and paces the room. "Oh my god. Everyone's going to know I'm Spiderman. My enemies are going to know my real name."

"Pete," I yell at him and grab his hand to keep him from burning a hole in the floor, "I have a way to fix it, but you're gonna have to lay low for a bit."

His eyes immediately shift from fear to concern, "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, and I can only buy us about half an hour before the news breaks." I tell him as I keep frantically typing. "It won't be a worldwide delay because the best I can do is mess with the local systems to buy a little extra time."

"If I may?" ARTI asks loud enough for both of us to hear. "I believe I may have a solution."

"I'm up for pretty much anything. So, go ahead." I tell him as I keep typing.

"I believe Will may be able to provide some assistance. I've been keeping my eye on his as part of the Umbrella Protocol you installed before initially leaving New York."

"The Umbrella Protocol?" Peter interrupts as he looks at me. "What's that?"

"A modified version of the Baby Monitor Protocol that Dad originally had in your original suit. It was a way to keep an eye on everyone close to me in case my identity was compromised." I avoid looking at him as I continue, "Plus, it helped me on the bad days to know you guys were okay."

"So, you were watching me while you were gone?"

"What? Did you really think I wouldn't check up on you?" I question with a raised eyebrow before returning the conversation back to the original topic. "How would Will be able to help us? Granted, he's as good with computers as I am, but I can only do so much."

"Alone, yes, but recently, he's become acquainted with a group of hackers like you and him. They're working against corruption in the media and large corporations that use their influence to spread misinformation or bury stories."

"Like what's happening to Peter." I grin at the idea of Will using his skill to fight for what he believes.

Peter looks at me with wide eyes, "And you. Whoever's behind the Trials framed you for all their crimes."

"Precisely." ARTI cheers in agreement. "Perhaps we can reach out to them and recruit them to helping the pair of you."

I look at Peter, trying to gauge his thoughts on the situation. "What are you thinking?"

"That it's our best option." He replies matter-of-factly. "I won't turn down a chance to still be Spiderman without everyone know if it's me in the suit, and I definitely wouldn't say no to clearing Phantom's name as well. People should see you as the hero you are."

"It's gonna be a while before people start thinking that again, but this will be a start." I sigh and grab Peter's phone. "You're going to have to talk to him."

"Why?"

"Because, I can't risk setting any systems off. It looks a lot less suspicious for you to call than a mystery number." I stare down at the phone in my hands. "Plus, I haven't talked to him and Trish since the week before I had to leave."

"Even when you were in London?"

"No, not even then. I couldn't even visit my Gran's grave while I was there." Tears prick at the back of my eyes, "You know they took care of her during the Blip? Trish wrote down, recorded, and cataloged all of her stories for when I got back. Will brought her fresh flowers every Friday like I used to do when I lived there, and both of them were with her when she passed."

"I remember you telling me about that. They kept in contact after you left, even though I couldn't tell them why."

"How are they? I only know so much."

"They miss you. After you left, we kept looking for you. They kept reminding me that we wouldn't until you wanted to be found, but we still kept going." Peter's hand finds mine and interlaces our fingers. "Guess they were right about that."

"I mean, I learned from the best—the best being the Avengers. It still feels weird that most of them aren't around any more." I squeeze Peter's hand. "But they taught me everything I needed to help keep you and everyone else safe."

"I don't think they meant for you to do it alone."

I shrug and dial the number in his phone. "I have to make a call too. We need all the help we can get, and we don't have a lot of time."

"Who are you calling?" He asks as his finger hovers over the call button. "And don't you think that could be a risk?"

"I'm just calling in a few favors. Maybe, but I'm taking every precaution to make sure it's a small one." I offer him a smile as I leave. "Go ahead and call Will. I'll be back in a minute."

I can tell Peter's not ecstatic over the idea of me making a call, but it would take too much time to explain who I'm calling and why. So I just leave it be for the moment.

"ARTI, turn on the voice disguise and call Eddie." I sigh as I hide myself in the bathroom.

"Are you sure? He wasn't exactly happy during your last conversation."

"He's got a raging symbiote attached to him; the man's never happy. But he owes me a favor, which I can use right about now."

"If you're sure." I nod, and ARTI activates the voice changer programming as he starts the call.

"Hello?" Eddie asks, sounding peeved as usual.

"Eddie, long time no speak." I pause as I can hear him groan on the other end. "And here I thought you were missing me."

"What do you want?"

"Straight to the point, I like it. I'm calling in that favor you owe me."

"I don't owe you anything." He snaps, and I can't help but laugh.

"Sure and you got all those leads by yourself." I retort. He doesn't respond to that. "I need the video your employer is about to go live with. You know which one."

"You know I can't stop a story this big."

"I don't need you to stop it, Eddie; it's far too late for that. I just need the original file to prove it's fake."

"What do you mean it's fake?"

"Exactly what I just said. The video was fabricated to frame Spiderman, and to put a false identity out in the world to serve a ridiculous vendetta."

"So the whole things a lie?"

"Yes. I have evidence to prove it, but first I need to prove the video is fake, which is why I'm having this almost pointless conversation."

"And if I say no?" He questions, and I can practically hear him smiling.

"Don't test me, Eddie, or did you forget I know your venomous, little secret? Now before you climb on top of the Empire State Building to get upset—I'm not threatening you. I promise if you get me this file, I'll make sure your secret stays buried should the same happen to you."

There's a pause, and I can hear a faint hiding from his side of the call. "Fine. I'll get you the file."

"Good. You know how to deliver it when you do. Goodbye, Eddie." I hang up and breathe a heavy sigh.

My head is pounding, and I can't help but wonder how we'll get out of this one. Everything just feels so much harder than it did when we were sixteen. I should be worrying about colleges instead of if an unknown group of people capturing—and likely experimenting—on me.

Each breath gets more difficult the longer I think about it, but I can't stop. It fills my head until there's nothing but static. I claw at the collar of my shirt.

It's harder and harder to catch my breath with every passing second. Tears prick at the back of my eyes. I try to blink them back, but it just forces them out and trailing down my cheeks.

My fingers try to rub them away, but it only seems to get worse the more I try to stop it. A whimper escapes me. This is all my fault. Peter's in this situation because of me, and as much as I pretend otherwise, I have no idea how to get him out of it.

There's a soft knock on the door, and Peter's head peeks inside a second later. His eyes go wide when he sees me sitting on the edge of the tub in the middle of a panic attack.

It only makes me cry more. He shouldn't have to see me like this—not after everything he's already dealing with. Of course, Peter doesn't seem to care about anything other than making sure I'm okay. His arms wrap around my shoulders, and his fingers brush through my hair until my breathing evens out.

"You okay?"

"Are you?" I ask in response, but he just sighs. "With everything going on, I think I'm doing the best I can."

"Yeah, I guess we both are." He lets out a bitter laugh. "There's not exactly a lot of precedence for this. But at least we're doing it together."

"It doesn't change that most of this is happening because of me." I reply with a frown.

"It's happening because of Beck and his psychotic need for revenge. You're not responsible for his actions."

"Then why does it feel like I am?"

"Because you care so much." Peter tells me in a matter-of-fact tone. "There's nothing wrong with that, but you can't take everything on yourself."

"I know," I sigh and rest my head against his shoulder. "So, what did Will say? Can he and the others help us?"

"Yeah, he's gonna get them to help both of us. He said he's already been working on his own to prove your innocence, but now he'll just ask the group to help both of us."

"Good, and I called someone to get a copy of the video so we can prove it was faked." Peter's arms wrap around my waist to pull me closer to his chest. "It's gonna be fine. You and May just need to lay low until this is cleared up."

"I already told May. So she's preparing for the—" His voice drops off as his phone starts ringing in his pocket. I glance at the screen and my stomach finds a way to knot even more. Because Nick Fury just had to call. "It's okay. I'm sure he's just gonna help us with what's going on."

"Somehow, I doubt that." I mumble and try to keep from going supernova as Peter answers the phone with an exhausted, "Hello?"

"Afternoon, Parker." Fury's voice is tense and has its usual edge. "I'm assuming our mutual friend is with you?"

ARTI gives me the heads up that the line is safe, and I sigh, "Unless you're calling to tell me Beck is giving up his associates or you've got some magic fix for the damage he's done, I'm not in the mood."

"Beck hasn't said a word since we stuck him on the Raft."

"Then you're calling because—?" Peter gives me a bewildered look as I sass the Nick Fury.

"Because I figured you need help with what's happening, unless you already have that handled."

"We've got some friends working on it, but we need all the help we can get." I reply and grab Peter's hand as he starts to fidget.

"So, let me get this straight: your boy Spiderman got totally played, and nobody thought to call me?"

"I had other contacts."

"Besides me?"

"Yeah. In case you forgot, you're not exactly easy to get a hold of, director of espionage and being overdramatic."

"As offended as I am, I guess I won't hold it against you. I'll do what I can. Meanwhile, you've got bigger problems." My heart skips a few beats, and somehow I already know exactly what he's about to say. "Those people you've been trying to avoid are back on your trail."

"How long do I have?"

"I'd say a day if at absolute best. So I suggest you move quickly and quietly."

Peter's hand squeezes mine so tightly, I almost wonder if he's trying to keep me from going. "What—but—how did they—how do they know you're here?"

"They've been monitoring all corners of the web for even whispers of Phantom. Apparently, her name popped up in a hacker group alongside yours, they put the pieces together."

"Thanks for the heads up." I do my best to keep my voice even. "Any advice on where to go?"

"I hear Belfast's nice this time of year. It'd be a good place to start." There's a pause. "Just keep your head down and keep moving. I'll do what I can to slow them down and off your trail."

"Okay. Thank—Thank you." I tell him before hanging up. This was what I've been dreading the whole time I've been here. I hate myself for knowing I was always going to end up back here.

Because now, everyone's at risk again, and this time it's entirely my fault.

"Lia," Peter calls after me as I hastily shove everything back into my bag, "what are you doing?"

"I don't have a choice, Peter. They know I'm in Queens. Plus, the second they figure out that Beck wasn't lying, and I'm here. We're all dead." I can't bring myself to look at him as I continue packing. "I can't let that happen. So yes, I'm leaving, and there's nothing you or anyone can do to stop me."

"I'm not going to stop you." He tells me, and I try to ignore the sting in my chest. "But I am coming with you."


End file.
